Children of Kadesh
by Norsehound
Summary: A legendary story from the Relicnews community. This is a tale of the origins of the protectors of Kadesh, set in the time of the original exile from Hiigara. The tragedy of this people is told in the interplay of three young people and a doomed destiny. (Formatting repaired!)
1. Prologue

**CHILDREN OF KADESH**

A Homeworld Fan Fiction

_Preface_

I don't think I expected Children of Kadesh to turn out as popular as it did when I wrote it, though I'm pleased to see that many remember it even after Relicnews has fallen and the Homeworld community has faded. This and another story, The Taiidan Civil War, are the two largest fiction works I did for the Homeworld community in it's hayday back in the early 2000s. Children of Kadesh was written first in January of 2005 with a first draft that is lost to time. What you read here is actually an edited version of the second draft I started writing in January of 2007. In fact, as the story was strangely absent from my own archives, I'm grateful to the Internet archive for existing so I could relocate and edit this story.

p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; text-align: left;"embr /As far as I know Children of Kadesh is the only origin story offered for Kadesh over the years, certainly it's the one everyone remembers. It's more than just a narrative, but a character-driven piece that was made with the intention of continuing the story further on. Book II would describe what occurred during the Homeworld war and the exiles' passing. Book III would describe the Kadesh afterward as they tried to settle on Hiigara. I haven't discounted writing these stories someday, but Homeworld isn't what it once was. This story made a mark on the Homeworld community and is remembered fondly by many. It was also one of the few contributions that made it into the Reliquary Newsletter (The first issue of two! Released on 11th December 2007!) I was also keen on fixing a few things, so I was grateful to touch this work again and do some edits.

Now that I'm inspired to return to after a long absence (revising another work that I'm also remembered for, here), I figured I'd test the waters re-uploading this old legend from the Relicnews community. This way, also, it is better preserved after the loss of so many of my stories once Relincews went down.

I hope you enjoy! Thanks

Mike "Norsehound" Ptak


	2. 1:1 Genesis

CHILDREN OF KADESH  
A Homeworld Fan Fiction

By Norsehound

2018 Rev.

**1:1 Genesis**

_In the beginning, the people sinned._  
_A great evil descended from the sky over our paradise, bringing with them flame and death as they roamed the streets and causeways of our home. They killed many, spared few, and showed no mercy for those fortunate enough to survive._

_With our cities ruined and our cause lost, we were cast out of paradise by the great enemy. Some say we had offended the great maker Sajuuk, he who shapes what is, and that this was our divine punishment. Others say it was the great tormentor Khelan-Jaat, and his minions that drove us, Sajuuk's greatest work, from Paradise. Whatever the case, our paradise was lost..._

* * *

There was a tap his shoulder. Turning, wide-eyed, the boy held the fingers to his lips and hissed through his teeth "Shhh!"

Miriam smiled at him.

Both young people turned to continue to listen to the bard retell the same story they had heard time and again. It was the tale of The Deluge: the expulsion of their people from Paradise. It was a story that, so they were told, they would have memorized by heart in the years to come. They said it was the story of their lost history, a story they would pass to their descendants, so as to remember the Paradise that was lost to them. They would tell this tale while they all waited for the journey to end.

Tamuur didn't want to believe it, but he listened out of his love for history. In his mind he imagined the great evil roaming the streets of paradise, the titanic Khelan-Jaat immolated in fire with great horns and a howling mouth, commanding the children of Hiigara to board these rusted ships and never return. The great metal boats taking off from a world they would never see...

And yet, there was hope, somewhere. There had to be. No story he knew told of hopelessness… at least, he'd like to think so.

The lecture finished and the bard was applauded before the assembled audience gave him the meager coinage they felt he deserved. Miriam's insistent tugging on Tamuur's shoulder turned the boy's head.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I want you to see something," She said.

Tamuur, sighing, followed the girl out of the niche and into the main causeway of the ship.

The Causeway was, to the old people, called "Cargo hold C". It was one of three enclosures on this level of the craft which Tamuur had lived his entire life. While he remembered the stories his grandparents told him of the great green land they had left behind, this was all he knew: Metal walls, metal ground, metal sky… a world surrounded in construction. It was an organized world- a world which Tamuur hoped, one day, to understand.

Tamuur followed Miriam along the causeway to the front of the ship. He wasn't as energetic as she was in her skipping- she was obviously betraying her enthusiasm for whatever she wanted to show Tamuur. But as he watched her skip he found himself a little light-hearted about her. He couldn't place it.

But he was magnetized to her curiosity, her thoroughness. Whenever she found something neat she had to share it with someone- and that was usually Tamuur. It usually lead the three of them to most unusual adventures.

After walking the long way down the causeway, Tamuur came through one of the wide doors to find the third of the trio standing on his toes, looking out one of the many windows to the Outside. Though Miriam skipped ahead through a man-sized door into the cabin beyond, Tamuur took the time to stop and say, "Silas, are you still trying to get outside?"

Silas turned his head and smiled at his friend, coming down on his feet again and turning, "I was just admiring the stars, Tamuur, nothing wrong with that."

Tamuur just shrugged and followed Miriam. Silas followed, stepping a little more gracefully than Tamuur's sure strides. It was only a hint of the differences both men had, but these differences were outweighed by their friendship.

Tamuur stepped through a few more hatches with Silas behind him before he realized just where he was. Comparing the mental map of the outside of the ship to where he'd been (he had studied the other ships outside long enough to figure it), he realized they were near the front of the ship- one of the areas long inaccessible to the people and deemed forbidden by the elders.

Tamuur's interest suddenly perked. Miriam might have found someplace new!

His pace increased and Silas noticed. "Hey, slow down!" The younger boy shouted and loped after his friend.

Tamuur hurried through the last door to see Miriam standing beside one of the many airlocks, grinning widely.

Tamuur, catching his breath, said, "Okay Miriam… what did you want to show me?"

Miriam turned around to face the door and hit three of the huge buttons on the airlock. The door beeped in a sequence unlike Tamuur had heard before, and the door opened into darkness.

Tamuur had been holding his breath in shock, not expecting Miriam to just casually open an airlock. His grandfather had taught him not to tamper with such things,doors to the outside meant instant death. Seeing into the blackened room, curiosity replaced terror and he stepped into the pitch black room as he could see distant stars.

He would need a long while to explore this place- he often did in unlit areas when he went free roaming like this. There was a certain technique and procedure that he-

"It's all right," Miriam said as she strode past him, "I've already been around here already."

"Miriam!" Chided Tamuur, "There could have been traps, or bombs, or-"

"Monsters?" Silas suggested.

Tamuur shot him a disbelieving look while Miriam stepped up to the front of the room. She reached up on her toes to look over the rim of the large windows that dominated the front half of the room. Tamuur, taller than she was, walked up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulders to lift her. Beside them, Silas also went up on his toes to look.

They had reached the ship's forward observation deck. A row of large rectangular windows peered out into space. Hanging in the darkness were the engine banks of many ships.

Silas did his best to point and say, "They stretch on forever!"

"It's fantastic…" Miriam said with awe.

Tamuur lowered her and peered for himself. He lost count of the new ships he could see in his vision- he would have to come back here later with a tablet and abacus to add to the number of ships out here. He could identify some new features on the ships that he had never seen before, also, which demanded documentation.

"There must be hundreds," Tamuur said, "Hundreds of them… with hundreds of people inside…"

"The whole Hiigaran race…" Silas mused, then pointed, "Tamuur look!"

Tamuur turned his head so he could see it. Even with their shorter height, they all could all see through the round windows as one of the huge brick ships start to turn.

"It's moving…" Miriam said.

Tamuur just stood riveted to the deck and watched. Part of his mind had always wondered if the ships never moved- just the stars did. It was like a trail of water flowing downstream, and these bricks were rocks. His grandfather told him this wasn't the case, and secretly he wanted to believe that the ships could move on their own. But all his friends said this wasn't true- their own fathers and mothers told them so. Tamuur was overwhelmed by the proof of his theory before his very eyes.

"Look…LOOK!" Silas pointed again.

Something was wrong with the great ship. It had peeled off from the rest, but the lights were flickering. Something bright was happening on the command pod-

The flash made Tamuur lower his eyes and cover them. There was ironically no sound- just the bright spots in his eyes. He lowered his hands and stared into the darkness to blink them clear, before looking up again.

Where the ship had been there was only a shattered a hulk retreating past his view. He knew he couldn't see it- it would be passing too high for any of the windows to see. His mind painted for him the rest of the picture- one of the bricks with her hull split wide open down the center like a warm anauo snack. Steam was replaced by debris, however, and air, and people.

Considering how many people lived aboard their ship, it suddenly struck Tamuur that it was a horrendous loss of life. He imagined what happened if everyone aboard, everyone he had known and seen, was suddenly killed with one swift action. And they were powerless to stop it if their ship malfunctioned.

Tamuur was horrified.

"They sinned…" Silas said suddenly, breaking the silence, "They sinned and they were punished."

Miriam looked at Silas, who was still staring out into space, and asked, "How did they sin? What did they do?"

"Don't be silly," Said Tamuur, recovering, "It's happened before, My dad has stories. Something went wrong, these ships are old."

Silas took a step forward and stopped, then started to wave his arms. "Tamuur?" He said, "Tamuur? I'm blind! the flash blinded me."

Tamuur sighed and took Silas by the arm. "Silas," Tamuur said as Miriam took the other arm, "One of these days you're going to stare so long out into space it'll suck your mind out of your brain."

Miriam laughed, and then looked down at her hand to see that Silas had taken it. She looked at his face and then joined in his smile, despite the fact that he couldn't see her face.

* * *

They didn't tell anybody about their secret- not even their friends. The seeing room, as Silas had called it, was their own. It was also the very beginning of their greater adventures into forbidden areas of the ship.

After Silas got his sight back, the three of them returned to the seeing room to look out at the ships again. Tamuur was sketching furiously, commenting to his friends about what parts of the space ships did. Miriam and Silas listened and commented when they could, Miriam from where she sat and moved a pair of knitting needles while Silas had climbed up to sit in the sill of one of the round portals.

Tamuur had painstakingly moved some of the discarded boxes in the seeing room and moved them to create makeshift chairs. It also gave him some more degrees of seeing- he counted at least three more ships below their own.

"The markings on the side," Tamuur said, "They're different on each one. What are they?"

Miriam shrugged, "Decoration?"

"Names," Silas said, "They're names of the ships."

"They are, huh?" Asked a skeptical Tamuur, "So if they're names, can you read them?"

"Sure," Silas said, pointing, "That one's Naala-Sur, that one's Komoti-juu, there's the Khar-Toba,, that one's the Lisaan-gib, that one-"

"Wait," Tamuur said, "You really can read that stuff?"

"Uh-huh," Silas said, "My dad's a calligrapher remember?"

"What language is it then?" Tamuur asked.

Silas shrugged, "I dunno. I just remember what he taught me. He called it 'Baalai'."

"Ask him where it's from." Tamuur suggested.

"I need to have something to show him first." Silas said.

Tamuur sighed and grabbed a scrap of paper, scribbled some of the drawings on it, and held it out. "Here."

"I don't want to come down," Said Silas and turned his head to look outside.

Tamuur sighed and then felt Miriam take the slip of paper from his hand. She considered it, before saying, "It's beautiful."

"It is…" Tamuur dismissed, and looked out at the stars, "It's nice… I wish I were a calligrapher."

"No you don't," Silas scoffed.

"Yes I do!" Tamuur replied.

"No you don't," Silas said, turning to face his friend, "If you were, you'd be a better artist than you are."

Tamuur winced, "What?"

Silas adjusted his seat saying, "All your drawings are rough and blocky. If you wanted to be a calligrapher, you need to make graceful, thin lines. Not harsh and...technical."

Out of reflex, Tamuur looked at his drawings.

"You'll never be an artist," Silas said, laughing, and turned back to the portal.

Tamuur sighed and dismissed Silas, turning back to his sketching. A moment later he noticed Miriam was watching him draw. She looked up at him, smiled some, and whispered, "I think you draw really good, Tamuur."

Tamuur just smiled back and looked out at the ships again to continue drawing them.

"Twinkle, twinkle…" Silas mused, running his fingers across the reinforced glass. His eyes were fixed on a red dot glowing brightly ahead of them.

* * *

Six months later, the three had managed to explore the room with lights. In their snooping Silas discovered a loose ventilation shaft hatch. Tamuur felt the adventure was just beginning.

They were now moving through the upper vents of the ship. It was just Tamuur with Silas this time- Miriam had an inconvenient instructional period that prevented her from coming. She pouted about it, but had to go. It wasn't proper for girls to play with boys. Then again, it wasn't proper for anybody to do what Tamuur and Silas were doing now.

In fact it was possible that they might be put to death if anybody ever found out.

According to Tamuur's sense of direction they had emerged into the spine of the ship. Only rarely had they seen lights lit on other ships this high- it seemed the highest deck was off-limits on a normal basis.

After crawling though vents and dust both boys emerged into deck one. Tamuur knew this from the giant red/yellow 01 painted on the side of one of the walls. Such markers were heavily corroded on other decks, but still legible at least.

The boys stood for a moment within the long, empty and hardly unlit corridor. Tamuur guessed this must have been a cargo freight hallway given how wide the hallway was. Both boys, on Tamuur's insistence, were wearing atmosphere clearing masks Tamuur had found in the airlock into the seeing room.

"Wow…" Silas said behind his mask, "It's quiet…"

Tamuur nodded and both boys took a moment to drink in the silence. In living in a world packed with people and metal halls, silence was as much of a rare commodity as precious stones..

Tamuur looked down the long hallway and noticed there were no doors. The corridor ran all the way back to what seemed to be the end of the ship- miles away. The floor was covered in peeled paint, and the dust was so thick it caked the floor. If anyone needed evidence they were here, it wouldn't be hard to spot.

"Let's go towards the back of the ship." Tamuur said, pointing, and aiming his flashlight in the direction of travel. Silas followed him.

Both boys walked in silence. Tamuur was focused ahead, his mind racing at the possibilities of what could be on the fabled first deck. Were there storerooms? A way into engineering? A solution for their predicament? Salvation? Monsters? Half the thrill was exploring. The other half was the feeling of abandonment… disuse… potential. Hidden things left here that once were. If there were any machines in disrepair on this level, he could spend days trying to take them apart and examine them. His mind was mechanically oriented… with only one distraction he knew of..

Silas's flashlight was wandering the hallways, focusing on any little glint, shimmer, or fleck of paint that he saw with his eyes. Sometimes he would spot a scribble on the wall that Tamuur just passed by and stopped to wonder, what made it? Who last wandered these halls before the two of them entered to explore it? What was the purpose of this hallway, and what had it carried before the long silence of today?

He would have to write about it later.

But the awe of this place! The loneliness! The silence… Silas would need another moment sometime to drink it all in- or perhaps come back here and let the nervousness overcome his gut. He never felt like this before. For a moment, he wished he were here by himself, since he knew Tamuur wouldn't understand the sensation he was feeling now. The feeling was almost narcotic.

Tamuur took notice of the doors they were passing now on their left. There were simply sealed closed, not welded shut like the doors near the back of the habitation section that lead into engineering. Whatever force that sealed these ships up obviously didn't consider inquisitive souls who got past the rudimentary precautions. There would be much time to explore them later.

That is, until he came to one particular door.

Both boys stopped in the hall to look at it. The door was rusted with age, but both could make out the vivid red cross seal of a medical facility. They stared at it for a moment more.

"We should go in." Tamuur said. Silas nodded. Tamuur turned to the door lock only to notice that the panel was absent. It wasn't even on the floor- it had been completely removed. Only a gaping round hole remained in the wall, with wires and naked bolts from where the control box had been torn.

Tamuur peered inside the gap before reaching a hand inside to feel some wires. He gently pulled them out of the hole and tugged more length out before fishing into a pocket and grabbing one of the three tools he had taken with him. He considered the wires he had in hand briefly before he used the snips to cut them. From there, he started experimenting by connecting the ends together.

"No…" Tamuur breathed, "no…" Each wire he knew was connected to some kind of mechanism to the door. One feed lead to the keypad, another would lead to another emergency system that could automatically open the door. The trick was finding the right combination that overrode any locks and opened the door automatically.

"No, no," He droned on, until he connected the line white with red. The door cracked open with a noise so sudden Silas jumped and took three steps back. Tamuur laughed behind his mask and approached the silver of an entry. The door was either jammed or the motors died- but either way they could get in. He pushed against the cracked door and with metal scraping, it gave way. He was able to push the door wide enough to get inside.

Tamuur pressed ahead first. His light shone across the room to the far wall. Silas was behind him, wide-eyed and curious at the darkness he was entering. The deathly cold and silence of the corridor was also present, yet even more ominous in this enclosed space.

Unaffected by the lonely sensation of the room, Tamuur immediately examined the wall beside the door. The panel to open the doorway was intact, but un-powered. Not good. He then found above it the light control- surprisingly still illuminated to show power. he reached a gloved digit out and activated it.

Silas jumped again at the sudden explosion of light. It wasn't complete, and many of the overhead lights had burned out or sparked, but now they could see without their lights. Both men stopped to look about the room rife with new things neither had ever seen before.

"This is a full hospital…" Tamuur observed, "Everything's here…" He walked to one of the observation chairs and stroked the faded leather. There were bases for chairs like this elsewhere in the ship, but only one of them was intact. This medical station had four.

Silas pressed onward, clicking off his light as he approached a cabinet. It was locked. He shoved the light into his pants pocket and gripped the cabinet handle with both hands to start tugging at it.

As Silas struggled with the medicine cabinet, Tamuur was examining a bench of medical equipment. He reached out and pulled a pistol-like device from its slot next to three others on one of the counters. He examined it, turned it around, and ran his other hand across the side. He hadn't seen anything like this before.

Silas finally managed to get the cabinet open. The metal lock popped open and he staggered back, then peered inside. Little plastic boxes had lined the shelves, designated with writing too small for him to make out clearly. He pulled one of the pillboxes from the shelf and examined the red and white capsules within.

"We should come back here sometime with Miriam," Tamuur suggested, then noticed what Silas was doing. "Silas, don't touch those."

Silas looked at Tamuur as he held one of the pillboxes open, some of the red and white pills in his hand. "What are they?"

"Pills. Medication. Prescription stuff. You're not supposed to take them unless you're sick."

Silas looked back at the pills and pondered aloud, "But what happens if you take them when you're well?"

"Just leave them alone." Tamuur said, "They could be poison or something."

"Why give poison to a well person?" Silas asked, still considering the pills.

Tamuur just shook his head, irritated at Silas' questions. "Silas, just leave them alone." Tamuur replied, "We can look, but don't touch too much stuff- and definitely don't eat anything. Those pills are probably older than you are."

Tamuur didn't mean it as a joke, but Silas chuckled behind his mask and returned the pills to the pillbox. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Tamuur considering a medical scanner, before pocketing one of the pillboxes.

"Anyways," Said Tamuur, "I think I need to sit in here for a while before tinkering with anything…" he trailed off as he spotted some books on a shelf. He read the label and pulled it off the shelf to look at the cover. "Huh."

Silas pocketed a few more pillboxes in his jacket before turning to Tamuur. "What?"

"Medical book… I think I'll take this." Tamuur said and folded it under his shoulder.

Silas hesitated, then asked, "Can I take some of the pills?"

"No," Toned Tamuur, turning to his friend, "They can hurt you, Silas." Tamuur stared at his friend, and then said, "Put them back."

"You have your book," Silas said, "I want some of the pills."

"Fine," Tamuur said, taking the book and putting it on the shelf, "I'm leaving the book. Put the pills back."

Silas sighed and returned to the cabinet to pull out the pillboxes one by one and replace them on one of the shelves. When he was finished, he looked back at Tamuur- who still had an annoyed expression in his eyes. Silas sighed and removed the last of the pillboxes from his person, stacking them on the shelf.

"Good," Tamuur said, "Let's go."

Tamuur turned to go and strode for the door. Silas reached out again and managed to slip a pillbox from the shelf- his favorite- and conceal it in his hand. It was a skill he had picked up from idle play- and used it now to prevent Tamuur from being upset with him again.

Tamuur killed the lights with a flick of his hand and stepped into the door crack. "Why did you turn off the lights?" Silas asked as he followed Tamuur out of the room.

"To preserve them," Tamuur said, "Some say it's better to keep them on but I don't want to take any chances. Anyway, we should probably get back- it's already been a few hours."

Both boys started down the hallway for the way out. Silas glanced back at the door just once, and then smiled beneath his mask. He did it! Now all he needed to do was keep quiet about the secret he had in his pocket. It made him excited knowing he was taking part of the unknown home with him.

Tamuur regretted leaving the book behind, but he didn't want to have a long argument with Silas. Tamuur remembered all too well the first days of his own exploring of foreign substances. After taking a sip of ship lubricant, he endured weeks of pain before recovering. His parents told him he was lucky to be alive, and Tamuur remembered that lesson all through his life. He hoped Silas wouldn't need a similar experience to learn that lesson.

* * *

When they returned they told Miriam all about their stories and what they saw on level one. Despite Miriam's enthusiasm to see the hospital for herself, they had been missed, and decided to keep a low profile for a while. None of them wanted to undergo the punishment of being sent to their cubicles, put in cold sleep, or worse; confined to the ship's nursery areas. None of them realized the gravity of their situation, however, and persisted as normal curious children did.

Silas had secreted his pills well- hiding them under his cot until all had fallen asleep. Using a small stone he managed to reflect the overhead lighting into his tent to be able to read the cover of the pillbox he had liberated.

The pills were called "CERANOEX", and the errata on the labels were full of words. Silas had never encountered medicine before- he had heard about it but never had to take anything himself. Medicine, so he was told, was for serious patients. Patient who could die, or patients who were terribly ill. He remembered some of the adults saying that once there was a lot of medicine once, but now there was only handfuls left of it to cure only very sick people.

Silas understood Medicine as something magical, something finite. And here he had in his hands a small amount of that stuff- of that stuff that healed people. If it could heal the sick within a matter of days, what else could it do?

He studied the label night after night, trying to decipher what it meant like Tamuur did with the various mechanical parts and things he found from various places. He even wrote about it in his journal, made conjectures about confusing words and sentences. But what he did know was the magical properties of 'medicine.'

One night he decided to try some of the magic for himself. Deep into the night cycle, when the door to his tent was shut, he produced the pills and read the instructions. One pill was necessary, just one, for the magic to work. He had a glass of water with him. The pills were swallow-able.

Silas put the pill in his mouth and drank- felt the thick pill slide down his throat with the water. He almost gagged at it's size- he hadn't swallowed anything that hard that was so big before. Sitting on his bed he waited for the magic to happen.

For the first minutes there was nothing. Twenty minutes came and went and there was nothing. Sighing in disappointment, Silas leaned back into the bed and prepared himself for sleep.

But there was something odd. He no longer felt the bed- no longer felt the air or the sheets or the cloths. He felt something… something strange. He was floating, or rather he thought he was floating. He sat up and looked at his hands to realize that he had lost his sensation of touch. Running a hand over the sheet, everything felt numb.

And he heard a voice. A beautiful voice. It sounded a lot like Miriam's… and he looked around to see where the voice was coming from. Outside, somewhere. It was somewhere outside. He stood and wobbled on his feet and walked to the door of his tent, forgetting completely the fear of being discovered. Opening the flap, he peered outside into the empty common of the cubicle space. He didn't see anything, but the floor seemed to be rippling like water.

He closed the flap. He was afraid, fear was in his mind, but he didn't feel it. Instead he felt the same kind of loneliness he felt on the first level of the ship- that sensation of his insides being all floaty and gelatinous. He turned back to the bed and felt his insides swirl with him.

But he saw something. It was coming from the shiny mirror he used to deflect the light to read by. Yes, the light… He could see a face there. It was outlined in the sheets of the back wall. They resolved into the ghostly image of a face- moving, breathing, blinking. It was the face of a woman.

He could hear someone's voice. He strained his ears, loosing all sense of time. He could hear her voice calling to him from a distant place. He strained his eyes, squinting to see if it was really real, and the point of light in his eyes turned into a full red dot.

He hovered there in complete ecstasy, before suddenly becoming aware that his stomach was drifting up his throat. He shuddered, and the next thing he knew he was sitting in something sticky.

As he sat there in his own vomit, he tried to recapture the voice, the spirit. It was there somewhere, just beyond his memory. He just sat, wide-eyed, contemplating what he had seen.

* * *

The next morning, spurred by a spontaneous thought, Tamuur decided to take Miriam someplace. Suddenly appearing at her dwelling and taking her by the hand, the two of them departed for the lower areas of the ship.

She was confused, as he wasn't saying anything after asking her to come with him. He just smiled at her when she asked where it was they were going. Eventually they descended the staircases for the lower levels of the ship.

The bottom half of the titanic vessel had been converted from empty cargo space into rows of hydroponics plants and gardens. He held her hand as he pulled her through the rows of plants.

Finally, she stopped him and asked, "Tamuur, where are we going?"

Tamuur, still smiling, looked about him before reaching a hand through the plants. Miriam watched as Tamuur produced a strange mechanical construction out of the trees and set it in the dirt. It was about as high as their waists, with four mechanical legs and a compact computerized head with a glossy cover fixed to the top of the body. A large camera eye sat on the top.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Watch." Tamuur replied with a stupid grin on his face. He reached around the body of the machine and flicked a switch. The device jerked, then raised it's head up some distance before stopping and rotating the torso. The eye flicked and adjusted, taking in information about its surroundings.

Miriam was laughing with amusement. She composed herself and said, "It's wonderful Tamuur! Where did you get it?"

Tamuur beamed with pride as he said, "I built it."

"You did? From what?" She asked.

"Parts," Tamuur shrugged, still wearing his pride. He stood beside Miriam and looked at the automation saying, "It'll start walking in a minute."

The automation turned it's head and started to move it's stubby feet. The machine waddled back and forth as it took step after hurried step in it's loud march down the rows of plans. Miriam giggled behind her hands, amazed at the power of his creation, before her eyes widened as it toppled over.

Tamuur sighed with a little embarrassment as he approached the struggling robot and switched it off before it became too confused. "Sorry… it worked well before…"

Miriam stepped forward saying, "I think it was wonderful Tamuur."

"You do?" Tamuur beamed, and then turned back to the machine with pride, "Maybe I can build more… maybe they can do more things. Maybe I can give it arms to it can do stuff."

Miriam walked on the catwalk before stopping and sitting down on her legs beside him. "I think he's fine the way he is." Tamuur looked at her. She smiled and explained, "He's cute. He has a lot of character already."

Tamuur looked back at his machine and started to stand him up, "He doesn't do much… he just walks."

"It's good enough though." She said, "Besides, if you made him do everything, then what would you be doing?"

Tamuur thought about that for a moment before he looked back down at the machine. "Yeah," Tamuur said, standing, "But doing chores and helping my grandparents…"

Miriam stood with him, "If your robot did that, then your grandparents would be sad because they would miss you."

Tamuur looked at her in consideration. "I didn't think of that…"

Miriam beamed, "I guess that's why I hang around with you, to tell you what you're forgetting." She turned to the robot and picked it up with her hands. "He's real light…how about we introduce him to everyone else?"

Tamuur hesitated, but was convinced by the sight of her holding his creation. "Sure," he said with a grin, "Why not?"


	3. 1:2 Metamorphosis

**1:2 Metamorphosis**

"Tamuur, this is a very delicate instrument. Only three are left in the entire ship. Do you understand?"

"I'm not twelve anymore," Tamuur dismissed in response. The signal keeper handed the bulky light instrument to the young man and made way for Tamuur to step up to the window.

They were on one of the flanking windows of the ship, along the right side. Today, Tamuur was to make his first signal to the other ships. He was a little nervous, and ran through the memorized codes and articles of light communication in his head. He was certain he wouldn't do too badly though- he practiced the message many times and the signal keeper said he learned quickly. One assumption the keeper made though, was that Tamuur had decided to make this his profession. In reality, Tamuur just wanted to master the art of light communication.

He was given this permission because of the widely accepted fact that he had a knack for all things mechanical. Ever since revealing his automation years ago, he had been entrusted with more and more broken machines and devices. Over the years, he had worked his tinkering knack on many machines and even got some to function after years of disuse. Others he scrapped, and more he assembled from what few components were brought to him.

The signal device was one such thing he had thought about setting out to recreate. He needed an understanding in signaling, however, which explained why he was here.

He aimed the light device at one of the distant, nearly stationary, cargo vessels and flashed the long blink. He repeated the cycle until a light flicked on the other side.

The light keeper, watching this from only steps away, nodded and folded his arms while he watched. Tamuur opened communications with a traditional greeting before giving the inquiry the elders posted. Tamuur finished his message, and listened to the reader standing at another window.

"They say the plague is getting worse," the reader translated, "It has claimed five more families and is spreading by the day. They have run out of their medicines…"

Sullen faces appeared in the room from the others present to hear the news. Sajuuk had blessed their ship, in that disease was rare and the council was ever watchful of the sick and the wounded- treating them with conservative uses of medicine or quarantining the infectious. But for other ships, it was likely that such precautions weren't practiced, or the disease was too great. Whatever the case it had only been in nightmares that plague and death would consume an entire ship- trapping the survivors in with the dead.

The light keeper nodded sullenly and spoke a message for Tamuur to translate. He did so, trying to distance himself from the thought of their own ship being in the same situation. Hundreds dead, no hope, the plague. The helplessness. Being trapped in a ship with no way to decide your own destiny. He winced as he tried to process his message in spite of that thought.

After being in the signal room he was released, but asked not to spread the somber news. The council would wish to do that, since they were the handlers of information. They, at least, knew how to shield the populace from despair enough to keep the spirits of the people high.

As he reemerged into the center areas of the ship, his thoughts dwelt on what he could do if something like that happened here. There were many airlocks on this ship, but hardly any of them had protective equipment. It had been coached into all of them from childhood that literally nothing existed outside the ship. No air, no heat, no light, and more importantly: no life. Any breach in the hull spelled disaster not just for the individual, but for the entire ship.

But there had to be some agency the people had over their fate… Tamuur would not let defeat overcome him. There had to be some way to get the medicines aboard other ships to the people in dire need on others. Had he not reconstructed entire machines on his own? How hard would it be to construct a machine or device capable of traveling outside the ship, to others, and going aboard them?

As he walked into his abode of the cubicle village, the first of many problems came to mind: rubber. The scarcity of it. Any polymer would do as a sealant- as his grandfather had told him. Air needed to be kept in with something soft- metal on metal would not contain it. Airtight equipment had to be constructed… and polymers were, in his mind, the best solution for something to contain the air. Unfortunately it was the rarest substance on the ship, needed in many other applications from medicine to machine repair. There was none to spare.

He turned into his cubicle and noticed he wasn't alone. She was seated on his bed. "Miriam," He realized with awe.

She smiled with him with a smile that left him stunned for several seconds. She stood, revealing a well-shaped, lean figure common among the people. Her golden hair had turned wavy as the years went on, and her face and body filled out. In this moment he realized Miriam wasn't just a girl, anymore. She charmed him now with her innocent eyes and small smile.

Tamuur had changed, also. Working with machines had maintained his muscles, giving him strength. Like his father and grandfather, and as he was told great grandfather, he was tall and broad-shouldered. Of the three friends he was taller, Silas reaching the height of his chin. If anything it gave him troubles- as he was outgrowing the propped-up cot Miriam was now standing from.

Their changes were also internal. Tamuur had an understanding about this love thing, now, and he felt the feeling when he saw Miriam again for the first time in five years.

Tamuur composed himself, trying to be stern, but his question came out tender, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him, hands folded before her, "I missed you," she said.

Tamuur was unsure of this. She could be lying- her sudden affection back then for Silas seemed to suggest she wasn't fascinated with Tamuur's 'Toys' after all. She chose the artisan over the builder, the poet over the tinker. He had given up hope when he hardly saw her anymore, and missed her dearly. It was part of his reasoning for devoting his time to the machines of their world.

To see her now was… moving. For a moment he forgot all about the scarcity of rubber, the planning he had, and the vision for a device to walk in the stars. All he could see was her, updating her image in his mind of what she looked like. Her, garbed in white, and beautiful.

She too was staring at him- into his eyes. They were both paralyzed by how much they had grown.

Tamuur was finally able to find words, "I…I…" he shook his head and smiled, averting his eyes as he said, "It's been too long…"

Miriam tilted her head a little to the side, then said, "You missed me too. You're not good at hiding your feelings… are you?"

Tamuur could feel his face change, becoming warmer. "Not…not when it came to some things…" He took a breath and faced her again, asking the question that emerged from being buried in his mind for the past five years: "Why did you stop talking to me?"

Miriam still looked into his eyes, her expression changing to match her statement, "You were becoming fascinated with your machines… you just wandered off into your own mechanical world. I couldn't talk to you anymore because you were always busy."

"I would have dropped everything if you visited," Tamuur replied, "All you needed to do was say something."

Miriam lowered her face. "I… didn't want to interrupt your work." She looked up again, "You're so happy doing what you love doing Tamuur… I didn't want to take you away from your happiness."

"I would have been happy if you visited." He said.

They were quiet for a moment, before Tamuur bitterly decided to ask a question. "How's Silas?"

"He's fine," She replied, "He's been really creative lately." She smiled, "You should hear some of the poetry we've written."

"Together?" Tamuur said, raising his head. His heart was already sinking.

She nodded happily, saying again, "He's even decided to perform some readings in the forum this afternoon. I'd be happy if you came."

"I don't know…" Tamuur said, shaking his head. He remembered the feeling he had upon seeing her again, though, and asked, "Will you be there?"

"Of course!" She replied, "He won't be the only one reading… so will I."

This made Tamuur smile some. "Then I'll come," He said, "Everything can wait, while I enjoy your poetry."

They both smiled for a while, and the warm glow within them remained even after the smiles faded.

Miriam turned her face away from him then and bit her lip, finally coming to something she had to address. "Silas's changed."

Her tone and posture Tamuur suspicious. "What's wrong?" He asked.

Miriam answered, "I think it's the stress he's under… his mother is terribly ill."

"I didn't know…" Tamuur trailed off.

Miriam raised her face to him with concern in her eyes. "Tamuur… I… I know this is a hard favor to ask you, especially after we've just reconnected. Can you….watch him, for me?"

Tamuur's eyebrows lowered. He came further into the tent and sat before her as he said, "Watch him? What do you mean?"

Miriam's eyes averted sideways as she said, "I know you two haven't spoken in a while… but you'd know best what's wrong with Silas. You and he used to be close friends before…."

Tamuur pressed his lips together in consideration. She was asking him not only to accept the fact that they were together, but also to watch Silas for any signs of trouble. There was a lot of pain in Tamuur's heart at Miriam's decision, and part of him wanted to take it out on Silas and let him suffer for winning Miriam's attentions. But as he stared at her concerned face, he knew he could do nothing to hurt her. Even if it meant helping one of the only people on the ship who had hurt him in some way.

Swallowing and pushing his conflicting feelings to the back of his mind, He nodded and said, "I'll see what I can do."

Miriam smiled and stepped forward, catching Tamuur off guard with a hug. He gently returned her embrace, unsure of everything now since his world had been tipped almost on its head from where it had been only moments before.

* * *

Tamuur held his word and dropped his plans for the afternoon to attend the forum. Everything else could wait.

The forum was a small circular clearing of the tents near the front of the large room the survivors lived within. A statue made of winding bare white metal strips had been erected at its center- its purpose to convey, in abstract terms, the freedom of the Hiigaran spirit. It was a thing of ridicule among the younger generations.

Tamuur spotted Silas even before he could hear him. Two years had changed him, yes, starting with his physique. He was smaller than Tamuur, both in height and in body composition. His lean body was almost stick-thin, appearing just as scarce and fragile as the metal collection of curving frozen white and silver strips behind him.

His voice hadn't changed though, and as Tamuur approached he could now understand his sweeping gestures and passionate stance.

"That no man become lost," He motioned across the seated audience with a finger, "that no woman, man, or child become lost in the heavens, in our boats. Sajuuk, he who shapes what is, is but a mere shadow- a thing. His spirit is with us; doubtful! He knows only himself… if he exists. How can we speculate what he is or what he isn't? We know only the name and what the myths tell us… there is no truth…"

Tamuur, standing some distance behind the seated audience, wondered if he was the only one confused about Silas's 'poetry'. His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted Miriam, seated some steps beyond Silas. Her eyes caught his and both smiled as they saw one another.

Silas didn't notice either, even after finishing. He spread his arms and dipped his head low as the assembled audience applauded. After a moment he stepped out of the center space, meeting Miriam halfway between her seat and exchanging an embrace.

Tamuur decided to sit down, and took a place at the back. He brought his knees up and hugged them as he listened to Miriam.

Rather than introduce herself, she looked at the delicate sheet of paper before her. This raised some eyebrows- paper was incredibly scarce in today's time. Tamuur noticed it also, but all thought left him when she started to read.

_"In my eyes, I have two hands_  
_ Two brothers, two souls, to paths, two lands_  
_ Beginning, ending, arriving, leaving._

_ If I raise one hand, the other falls._  
_ If I speak one word, the other becomes deaf._  
_ One I cannot have without the other_  
_ To let one live, leaves the other dead._

_ In one light I have a gear_  
_ A pretty gear, a gear with ears._  
_ I speak to the gear and it gives me thought_  
_ Wonderful thoughts, thoughts I want._

_ In the other I have a lens_  
_ A lens that makes a prism of the light it bends_  
_ I look through the lens and it gives me sight_  
_ But from it I can no longer decipher the…" _

She was staring at Tamuur as she lowered the paper. Everyone was waiting for her to finish.

Blushing, she shook her head, "It's not finished… I'm sorry…"

Tamuur was one of the first to begin applauding. She had her head lowered as she left the stage. Another poet stood, but Tamuur was watching Miriam. She and Silas departed, headed off and away from the forum. Other heads watched, but only Tamuur stood and walked to follow them.

He didn't take a direct route. Like all other inmates on the ship, he knew the exact layout of the city of tents. After tracking the pair he stopped when he could hear them.

"…but I liked it," Silas' voice was saying, "I can guess your inspiration… it's me and Tamuur, isn't it?"

Miriam mumbled something. Silas chuckled. Then he said, "I didn't know I was a gear… I guess it works… beautiful and polished, eh? Ah well…" the rest were murmurs.

Tamuur waited and listened as Silas and Miriam parted. Steps later, Miriam rounded the corner of the tent Tamuur was hiding behind. Seeing him, she gave a sudden gasp.

Tamuur just stared at her with his mouth slightly agape at being caught.

* * *

In his tent Tamuur's hands worked around a damaged agricultural machine while Miriam sat on his bed. Neither of them had said much after Miriam soundlessly went home with Tamuur.

Finally, looking at her hands, she spoke, "I'm sorry… I guess I should have rehearsed a little more."

"Everyone seemed to like it." Tamuur replied, then winced at a part of the machine he was working on, "Even Silas's spiel… what was that anyway?"

Miriam shook her head, "Interpretive. Silas is very experimental…"

"I agree to that," Tamuur replied, adjusting his seat and looking at her, "Do you like his work?"

She looked at one of the walls of the tent saying, "Some of it's interesting. Sometimes people come to me and ask to interpret his words, but sometimes I'm just as much in the dark as they are. The audience liked what they saw tonight though.."

"I think the audience was applauding his acrobatic skills," Tamuur said with a smirk.

"His work is very thought-provoking." Miriam said, staring at him again, "How many times have you imagined Khelan-Jaat and his minions when you've heard the deluge?"

"You have me there," Replied Tamuur as he looked at the machine, "The difference is the context. The deluge is the ancient tale of why our people were here… at least it's coherent. Silas is borderline…" Tamuur trailed off as a thought struck him. He turned his head asking, "Where did you get that paper?"

Miriam, caught off guard, blinked as she pulled her head back slightly. "Silas gave it to me.." She said, "He said there was plenty where that came from…"

Tamuur leaned back on his legs, away from the machine, to think.

"Is there something wrong?" Asked Miriam.

* * *

Her coughing and wheezing were heard from the next tent over.

Silas's head had turned over his hunched-over body, staring in the direction of his mother's dying. He held it there for a moment and turned back to look at the thing he held in his hands.

The box- with one pill left.

Over the years since he had discovered this magic he had surrounded himself with the mystical things. Drawings scrawled on fabric, markings etched in scrap metal, even the ornate array of mirrors and prisms that lit the room in a soft warm glow.

His mother had to get better.

They had already taken her to see the healer several times. That was when she could walk. There had been a fear that they may have to put her in quarantine, least she infect anyone else with what she had and unleash an epidemic. When she was examined by one of the last functioning assessment devices, the machine told them that it wasn't contagious- just….

Whatever the case, they denied her medicine. The mandate had come from the council. Not only did the medicine have to be preserved, but something was said about too many people being on the ship.

They were going to let her mother die.

Silas clutched his cure in his hands- the one thing that had opened his eyes to new worlds…new visions. With it, he had been able to comprehend not just the visual, but the spiritual. His mind had reached new boundaries through the help of this magic. And he never felt better in his whole life than when he was taken with the ecstasy of this medicine.

It was a miracle. A miracle contained in such a small little thing.

And best of all, it was medicine. Medicine from his own private stockpile. His mother needed medicine.

Clasping the pill case tight, Silas stood and made his way gently out of his shrine. Entering the neighboring tent of his parents, he volunteered to take care of mother while father went to market to get food. Silas' father agreed and left, telling Silas not to do anything rash.

Silas poured his mother a glass of water and presented her with the cure. "Mum…" He muttered, "I brought you medicine…"

The mother of Silas, Eden, raised her grey-framed head. Her eyes winced in pain, but she saw the red and white pill Silas had in his hand. He fed her the miracle, followed by letting her drink the glass of water.

Time seemed to slip away as he rubbed her hand to comfort her. His eyes were wide, studying her features as he sought for the blessing. He waited, fingers probing in his mother's knuckles in the way his mother used to do for him when he was little.

His mother shuddered suddenly, startling Silas as she surged in the bed. His hands went to her shoulders, calling to her, but she wouldn't hear. Her eyes were wide open, staring up and ahead at the ceiling, her mouth agape.

"Silas… Kahdesh…" She murmured.

Her body slowly went slack and she fell back into the cot. Silas, eyes wide, stared at his mother.

Slowly he sat on his knees, and then lowered his head. When the healers came to Eden's tent, there were cries of lamentation.

* * *

Tamuur had forgotten the silence of this place. Deck 01 was at least as desolate as he remembered it. Tamuur quickly made his way down the long hallway, leaving the vent he used to get here when they were children.

Tamuur's pace slowed a little as he remembered how much he used to enjoy this. Plodding around in forbidden halls, venturing where he shouldn't, exploring areas long forgotten or forbidden to travel. He still had yet to find the one place he wished to see so desperately; Engineering. The tales and stories his grandfather told him about the massive engines and rows of controls and buttons came to him renewed as he thought about it in this dead place.

He continued, making his way past the dim and failing lights. It was dark and forbidding otherwise, and only his flashlight was present for company.

Years ago he wouldn't have dreampt exploring without one of the others. With Miriam, he'd show her what he knew of the ship's systems. With Silas, the pair of them would pick a direction and see what was at the end of it. Now Silas was becoming a garbled poet, and Miriam…

After he had told Miriam he needed to investigate Silas' behavior, she wanted to come, perhaps knowing here he was going. He told her to stay behind and keep an eye on Silas, though she wanted to help. Even though she pointed out she knew where Silas went (He took her with him, apparently, on regular visits to 'other areas of the ship'), Tamuur said it was wise if she stayed in the city in case he went looking for her.

"Why are you doing this?" She had asked in the door frame of the very same lock she had opened for him when they were kids.

"You told me to look after him didn't you?" Tamuur had responded.

Tamuur had some theories.

He reached the first open door on the left, the same one he broke open nearly six years ago. This time the lights were on.

He waited outside for a moment, listening for any signs of life inside. After a minute of hearing nothing save the distant roar of the ship's engines, he squeezed his way into the hospital and clicked off his flashlight.

It was much the way he had remembered it, but there were some things out of place. Machines had been moved about. At the far end of the room a medicinal dispenser had been tipped over. Some broken machines littered the ground.

Tamuur's eyes went to the long teal-painted shelf along the side wall of the hospital. Papers were strewn across the shelf, along with open books, ripped pages, and discarded writing styluses. Tamuur crossed the room to this shelf and picked up a sheet of blank paper with a gloved hand. A red ccross with writing was styled in the top-right corner- signifying this as a blank medical document. Looking up at the paper racks he could see the quantity was low.

"Silas…" Breathed Tamuur.

Then he remembered.

Tamuur immediately turned around and saw the medicine cabinet open. He crossed to it in three swift steps, and pulled open the metal doors.

"Sajuuk…" Sighed Tamuur.

The cabinet had clearly been plundered. Where this shelf had nearly been full, there were definite cleaves into the full blocks of arranged pillboxes. Glancing down, Tamuur saw empty and discarded cases littering the floor. He reached down and picked one up, examining the exterior and reading the label.

CERANOEX  
Tyrandim Tablets, 400mg  
Psychoactive drug / Anesthetic

37 Coated Tablets

Tamuur flipped the box over to read the back information. He soon found what he was looking for.

WARNINGS  
NAUSEA: In some patients, vomiting and stomach discomfort may occur.  
HEART COMPLICATION WARNING: In most patients, taking more than prescribed amount may result in heart complications.  
HALLICINOGEN: This drug is known to cause hallucinogenic effects. See your doctor for details….

There was more, but Tamuur was already convinced this was the source of Silas' little 'episodes.' He finished reading the medication and placed it where he found it. Looking at the case again, he shook his head in sheer disbelief. Silas must have been taking these ever since he found them. Tamuur should have known better than to let him in here…

Tamuur turned away from the medicine cabinet and crossed back to the shelves. He found the book he had seen earlier when he was here- he recognized the attractive and simple design to the cover. The simple blue cover was interrupted by a bold red cross with a stark white border. The heading at the top read GENERAL MEDICINAL GUIDE. The book was on it's side on the teal shelf.

Tamuur picked it up and paged through it- and stopped when he saw a gap in the spine where about fifty pages would have been. Looking around, he spotted them littering the floor.

Tamuur sighed behind his mask and considered the book, then closed it and tucked it into one of the large pockets of his jacket. He reached down and gathered some of the papers littering the ground, out of hope of perhaps reconstructing as much of the book as he can.

It was no longer out of casual interest, he realized, but because Miriam asked him too. And because Silas needed help. If what Tamuur was thinking was true, then there were even worse dangers in line for Silas than what may be evidenced now.

His eyes caught a glimpse of something and he stopped. On his hands and knees, he set aside the stack of papers he had been recovering and crawled across the floor of the dimly lit medical ward to one particular sheet of discarded paper. Picking it up and holding it to the light, he discovered it was a drawing.

The face was clearly Miriam's. From there, the details just got hazy… She had her arms outstretched, as if she were flapping her arms as wings. Robes and cloth were about her like some female visage of Sajuuk. She was smiling, her eyes half-closed, and her expression that of compassion. Her hands were open and facing upward.

A circular scribble was in the bottom corner. Tamuur studied the symbol- circles within circles, and light radiating from the center to the rim in the form of harsh angles. The center circle was also off center.

Tamuur looked at the other scraps on the floor. The symbol was on many of them, along with other scribbles of what looked like writing. Tamuur returned to the drawing in his hand and flipped it around. With some irony, it was a pamphlet speaking about being responsible with drug prescriptions.

Tamuur shook his head, and then reached around to put the scribble on top of the stack of medical papers.

As he gathered more of them he pondered what to do. Being here was a breach of the Law- no man, woman, or child should venture outside of the common areas. It was an act punishable by death, likely because tampering with the ship's workings was a grave offense for everyone.

Yet he couldn't keep quiet about this. Something had to be said. Something had to be done about Silas, or things would just get worse.

A sound interrupted the humm of the engines and equipment. A repeating sound. Tapping. Footsteps.

Wide-eyed, Tamuur scattered the papers he had been gathering and stood. He crossed to the far side of the room, away from the door, and into a robe closet. He stepped inside and leaned against the inner wall, and waited.

"It's in here," Silas' voice was saying as he squeezed through the door. He stopped, where the other set of steps ended seconds afterward.

Tamuur's heartbeat rose when he heard Miriam's voice, "It's so cluttered…"

A chuckle from Silas, followed by, "Well, I don't come in here as often as I want to… not enough time with everyone wanting to hear my poetry…"

Tamuur heard Silas pacing and just waited.

"It's so lonely in here…" She said, "For a hospital. How did you find this place?"

"Tamuur and I came up here, years ago. Ever since I've been sneaking back and looking around. It's kinda… a home away from home. Somewhere where I can just be left to think."

"Is this me?" Miriam's voice asked, along with the sound of paper.

"Not exactly…" Silas said, "But…someone I've been seeing… in my waking dreams."

"Waking dreams….?"

"Yes," Silas said, "She's there, speaking to me…"

Miriam chuckled, then said, "Does she have a name?"

Silas paused, then went on, "I don't know… she never gives her name to me. She's just there, beckoning to me… I think… I think my mom knew her name…"

Miriam was quiet for a moment, then said, "But your mother's dead…"

"She said her name… I think she saw her too…"

"How?"

"After I let her see… She said…'Kah-desh.' I think that's her name…"

"Let her see? How?" Miriam asked.

"I'll show you," Silas' voice replied and Tamuur heard the metal of the cabinet.

"What are those things?" Miriam asked.

Tamuur heard the slosh of pills in a case and Silas' voice, "Miracles… it's medicine. All the medicine I could need… each one does different things… most of them let me see her…. See Kadesh…"

There was silence, before Silas asked, "Do you want to see her?"

Tamuur emerged from the cabinet, making noise as he did. He saw Miriam and Silas, the latter with his hand outstretched and the white and red pills in his hand. Neither of them had dust masks.

"Miriam," Tamuur said after a second's worth of hesitation, "Don't touch it."

Silas turned. His eyes were unnaturally wide, his pupils small. He considered Tamuur for only a moment before blasting with his full voice, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

Tamuur ignored him. Striding towards Miriam he pulling off his dust mask and handing it to her, saying, "You're not supposed to be up here without this."

"But what about you-?" Miriam started as she pressed the mask to her face.

"Not now," Tamuur said and turned to Silas, "Silas, we need to take you to a healer, now."

"You don't tell me what to do." Growled Silas.

"You're sick, and you need help." Tamuur said.

"You dare interrupt my offer of vision!" Shouted Silas, and lunged at Tamuur.

Both men toppled to the ground, making Miriam move back to the wall as she pressed the breath mask to her face, wincing as she saw both friends struggle.

Tamuur was taller and stronger than Silas, but the younger man had youth, speed, and unnatural fury on his side. On his back Tamuur was the recipient of blows and bruises as Silas's hands swung around Tamuur's face. When the firsts turned to claws, Tamuur swung a closed fist and connected with Silas' jaw.

The smaller man toppled from his place straddling Tamuur, and the older man didn't let the advantage slip. He came up to a stand as Silas was getting up and caught something to use. Tamuur spotted the handheld scanner he had contemplated years before, sitting on the shelf beyond Silas.

The young man, up and with a bloody nose and lip, lunged at Tamuur again screaming. Tamuur held his ground and sidestepped Silas, causing the young man to collide with a medical table and fall down.

"Silas!" Miriam cried behind her mask.

Tamuur reached the table and picked up the scanner, turning around to meet another challenge, but saw that Silas had disabled himself quite well by colliding with the table. He was on the ground, unmoving save for his gently rising and falling chest.

Tamuur waited a moment more out of caution, before Miriam approached the fallen form. Tamuur still waited.

Miriam said, "He's still breathing…"

"I did what I had to Miriam," Tamuur said.

Miriam glanced back at him with softened eyes. "I know… we have to help him." She turned back to Silas, "I never imagined it could be this bad…"

Tamuur's eyes remained on Miriam for a moment before looking at the medicine cabinet.

* * *

"I see." The balding healer said with his hands on Silas' face. Restrains tied the boy to the bed in case he decided to do something rash.

Tamuur had reclaimed the dust mask. If they were to field punishment over what happened, Tamuur would take the blame alone. Miriam was also in the infirmary just steps behind Tamuur with concern on her face.

"They were red and white," Tamuur explained, "Small… the size of the span between a man's fingernail and the first bend." He snapped a finger, "Ceranoex… that's what the name was."

The healer glanced at Tamuur and then left Silas' face to cross to a teal shelf identical to the one on deck 01. He pulled a tattered codex from the shelf and let it rest on the desk- opening it gently and scrolling through the pages. Both young people waited as the healer considered some passages in the book.

The healer turned to them after a moment of reading, "Ceranoex… we don't have any more of that. It's a psychedelic used to blunt the senses in time of great pain or operation. Where did he find it?"

Miriam stared at Tamuur as he said, "He must have found some in one of the dead spaces."

"He ventured there?" Asked the healer.

"I can only suppose so." Tamuur answered as he shrugged slightly. Tamuur decided, for all those involved, not to disclose the whole truth. Though the colony could use the supplies of the medicine up there, to reveal it now would evoke a tribunal that would, by law, result in possibly the deaths of all three of them. It would also mean Tamuur would certainly be unable to explore the ship for the things he needed to improve life here.

The healer looked at the boy and shook his head. "His mother first… and now him."

Miriam stepped forward to stand next to Tamuur, asking, "Will he die?"

"I cannot be certain." Said the healer, "Much of the equipment I would need for a full analysis is otherwise occupied… although functional, thanks to you Tamuur. He will need to remain here under observation."

Tamuur nodded, then added, "There's something else… I think he may have given this medicine to his mother."

The healer stared at Tamuur, and then said, "That must imply that he has some kind of further supply… I will send someone to investigate his lodgings for any more contraband medicine."

Miriam nodded as she looked down at Silas. "I can understand why he did it, though."

The healer's face took a grim emotion. "I know full well the edict of the council in such matters… nothing could be done. Had we given her even some of our precious medicine it would only prolong her life of pain for… days. It was in our decision that nothing more could be done to help Eden, may Sajuuk cradle her spirit."

Miriam leaned against Tamuur's arm as she brought her hands up to her face. Tamuur only grimly looked down at Silas, his mind going over again how powerless his people were.

It made him angry.

* * *

Returning from the healer's place, Tamuur and Miriam walked side-by-side as they wandered for Tamuur's estate.

"I have to feel sorry for him," Miriam replied as she shook her head, "He was only doing what he thought was right. Do you think the council will charge him for murder?"

"No." Tamuur answered, "Not on the grounds of mental instability."

Miriam looked at Tamuur as they continued walking, asking, "Mental instability?" She stared ahead again, "Tamuur, he was desperate!"

"Miriam,," Tamuur grunted as they approached his tent. He pulled her closer and uttered under, "When we found that place I told Silas not to touch those pills and leave them there. He took them in spite of my warning and put himself in danger as he was doing so."

"That's a risk he was taking himself, wasn't it?" Miriam asked.

"He gave some to his mother, didn't he?" Tamuur said as they stepped in front of his tent. He pushed his way inside, and Miriam followed.

As Tamuur took a seat on the bed, Miriam asked, "Do you have any hope for him?"

Tamuur sighed and thought for a few seconds, before turning his head to Miriam, "He wouldn't take no for an answer and touched something he shouldn't have. If he pulls through maybe he'll learn to leave some things alone until you understand them." He sighed and scrubbed a hand in his hair while he grunted, "I wasn't as close to him as you were. It's been years since we really had a connection."

"We aren't as close as you might think." Miriam replied as she shook her head. She looked at a clockwork assembly slowly churning on one of Tamuur's workbench. She went on, "He was always the dreamer… always creative… He'd always outshine me by what he could come up with. I was just… doing it for fun. He seemed driven by something."

Tamuur didn't say anything. Miriam stepped forward to sit beside him on the bed and folded her hands.

Tamuur looked at her from the side, captivated again in that moment by how beautiful she was. At age 18, he could fully appreciate it now. His heart, elevated, was in rapid agreement with him.

He looked at the small little machine workings in his room, and then his eyes stopped at the large blue sheet that was added to his room recently.

Miriam saw it also, asking, "What's that?"

Tamuur smirked and stood, crossed the tent, and grasped the sheet gently. Pulling it from the wall, he walked backward and sat on the bed to spread the sheet between them. The white lines gracing the thick paper were delicate and crisp… arranged together, they made an orthographic view of a space warship with an oval profile.

"It's from my Grandfather," Tamuur said, admiring the sheet, "It's just one of a bunch he has… plans for a spaceship…"

"Heavy cruiser…" Miriam read off the corner

Tamuur stopped looking at his plans and at her again. She kept her stare on the plans for a moment longer until she looked up at him.

They stared at each other, silently, until the gravity was too much.

He leaned forward to kiss her, gently, on the lips. From there it turned into a tender embrace, wordless, as they held one another.

The paper was forgotten. It was more important to make up for lost time.


	4. 1:3 Deliverance

**1:3 DELIVERANCE**

The festival of deliverance was coming.

It was one of the only holidays observed by the exiles throughout the year. It was a time when the people could celebrate with joy and festivity at the survival of their people through the exile. In a secular sense it was a time for merriment and festivity that crowned the end of the year. It was a time of resolution, renewal, and a cleansing of old grudges. In a religious sense it was showing Sajuuk gratitude for His mercy on the forsaken people, and the future promise that someday they could atone for whatever great misdeed they had caused to merit this punishment.

It was also a holiday of giving.

For a rag-tag society deprived of the materialism of ancient times it held a new significance. The idea of giving, once out of obligation in the past, now held an almost reverent significance. The art of giving was almost a science. The perfect gift had to crafted out of thoughtfulness and meaning for the giver to the recipient, and speak about the relationship between them. Such was the importance of this holiday.

Across the span of the tent city, great thought was being devoted to what one gift would be presented to a loved one.

Tamuur was no exception.

On this day, he had surveyed his tent. It was in many ways his room- the culture of the exiles was organized such so that only couples could share tents. Usually, siblings had their own dwellings from the year eight and older, and a housing unit was appropriated either close to the family or within relative reach. From then on, it became the private property of the occupant.

Tamuur had all of his possessions gathered inside, everything from his earliest days to the present. And yet, after investigating all of this and taking stock of it, he could not find a thing worthy enough to give to the new highlight of his life.

He was still the tinkerer, even after almost a year since Miriam's reentered his life. Ever since that special evening, the old story of their connection had come to life again and was filling with color and splendor. They were both older now, nineteen years of age with only months between them. The past year had seen them closer together than they had ever been as children.

It was this closeness and gravity that antagonized Tamuur now. Of all the toys, trinkets, gadgets, and drawings in his world, there was nothing worthy enough for what he wanted to say to her.

Perhaps he could build something. It was in his power now, all he need to was ask for the materials to do so. His reputation as a machinery wizard proceeded him far in the ship. Many of them would understand if he put an inquiry out for a few random things and bits- and they would expect something great to come of it. Something too public for what he wanted to convey.

Sighing, he turned to his sketches- picking up the stacks of paper he had liberated from deck 01. No longer rough and crude drawings, the sketches were now clean and refined. They were by no means artistic, but mathematical and clean.

He stared down at his first exercise in starship construction.

His grandfather had been teaching him up until his death weeks ago. In his wake, he had given Tamuur all he knew and possessed in the art of building ships. Tamuur had studied these religiously, interrupted only by Miriam's visits and the occasional job the council asked of him. The drawing before him was the first exercise in this presently hypothetical art of making spacecraft.

Smiling, he tried to imagine what the smooth vehicle would be like just outside the window of their great ship. It wasn't just the structure though- but the principle. The ability to command the direction of the ship… the ability to choose one's own destiny. The freedom of motion.

What an awesome gift to give to someone.

His mind started to race, thinking of the largest pieces of scrap material he could find. He had plenty of polymer now, from what was left of the infirmary on level 01. The next biggest problem was finding an engine. No such thing existed on the vessel. There were plenty of examples in the books left to him, but until Tamuur managed to find a way to the ship's outer loading bay (He knew it existed from looking at other ships), he was not certain if such an engine existed on the whole ship. Failing this, he knew, he'd have to build one from scratch. It would be easier if he could see a real physical starship engine.

He stopped himself before he got too lost in his thinking. Perhaps starships weren't the answer.

Footsteps outside his door drew his attention. Her voice asked, "Can I come in?"

Chuckling to himself at the reasons why she wouldn't want to come in, Tamuur replied, "Of course."

Miriam's head, then slender body came through the tent flap door. She had a smile on her face as she asked, "Have you thought of your gift for the deliverance?"

Tamuur frowned playfully, "I'm trying to find something that isn't related to machinery."

Miriam, taking a seat on the bed beside him, smiled saying, "But it's your craft Tamuur… everyone expects you to make something fantastic this year."

Tamuur shook his head slowly, "I don't think I can top last year's creation of the dancing mice…"

Miriam laughed at the memory, "Maybe you should try for five this time."

Tamuur shrugged. They were both referring to the palm-sized mechanical contraptions Tamuur had constructed out of dead hand scanners from the hospital. With a little constructive creativity, he had not only given them the power of mobility, but had also synchronized their motions to perform a dance. It was a hit, and Tamuur had heard the novelty was eventually given to the daughter of one of the council.

Miriam looked around at the walls as she said, "I heard they've found flowers in the garden areas."

"Flowers?" Tamuur repeated.

Miriam turned to him saying, "Plants that are decorative… well… I guess they're edible… I was told they were brought onboard for their medicinal properties… herbs, you know."

Tamuur nodded. After salvaging the medical book he had some know-how in medical terminology… but it wasn't deep enough of an interest to pursue seriously.

She looked at him longingly.

"I take it you want flowers then?" He asked with a smile.

"It would be nice," Miriam replied, "But then, I know you're a hard thinker. Surprise me."

Tamuur intended to do just that- assuming he could figure out just how.

* * *

They had held him in observation for a year. Such things were necessary when considering the use of drugs- especially ones not prescribed.

He had been off the restraints after the first three months of his internment. They still wanted to watch him- per directive of the council. He had unknowingly poisoned his mother… Sajuuk knew what else he was capable of.

They had supplied him with writing things though in the form of an autotab. It didn't take up space and wasn't nearly as precious as the finite supply of paper. Though it was only one of twelve still left aboard, it kept him quiet.

In fact, more quiet than he had ever been in his life. The boy Silas would go for weeks without speaking… just writing or staring out into space when he was granted permission to wander in a confined area. Hardly anyone considered his writings- he guarded his autotab with an almost religious fanaticism. He would not allow anyone to touch it.

Were anyone to notice though, Silas was still drawing. Still scrawling. The characters illustrated on the autotab would hardly make sense to anyone save the ancient cryptographers and calligraphers of distant Hiigara. They would say his writing is the mishmash work of several dialects and handwriting styles- hardly decipherable to anyone who wasn't familiar with the methods.

But to Silas, it was more important than life itself. It had to be said, it must be said. The voice must not go quiet. The people must not maintain their hollow faith in a deity who abandoned them to the dark.

Miriam… a word he repeated. Miriam Miriam Miriam. Kadesh, Miriam. They were almost one and the same… she still haunted him whenever he slept.

Or rather, visited him whenever he slept.

She was a permanent fixture in his dreams, a fragile creature with a voice so devout he could not decipher what she was saying. Silas could only determine the intention of her sighing voice. Safety. Freedom. White.

Red.

The pill. He had craved the encapsulated miracle ever since Tamuur had deprived him of consciousness, and he woke up in this cell. It was the only solution now. It had purified his mother- sent her to reside with Kadesh. When he died, he would see her there- not in Sajuuk's ladle where the liars believed their souls departed, carried to that well of their false God.

Only with the miracle could he hear her voice. Only with the Miracle could he lead his fellow man to truth. Only with the miracle could he touch heaven and be with her, Kadesh, the eternal soul of Miriam.

With this logic he smiled. It puzzled his keepers.

* * *

Tamuur was in lesson today. His teacher was old… older than even his grandfather, which some could claim was a miracle of Sajuuk in itself.

They called him Kamar, the maker of war. The hermit of the ship was said to be the last one to retain knowledge of the old ways of fighting and death. The council had declared such knowledge forbidden, and kept internal strife to a minimum through a combination of peacemakers and firm rules. Perhaps, Tamuur believed, one way they maintained order was banishing war makers like Kamar.

Tamuur was here because an idea occurred to him weeks ago, when he remembered the old scribbling he made as a child. He recalled the death of one of their neighbor starships. He remembered through his notes how that ship had died: internal explosion of unknown cause. Tamuur was certain it hadn't been the engines- the explosion came from somewhere else.

Nobody on the ship knew a thing about making or causing explosions. Everyone had only been taught the result- sound, light, noise, death, and possible exposure to space. Even demonstrating knowledge of advanced chemistry was risky, since independent experimentation could spell the death of the community with one hull breach. With laws like this, knowledge of how they worked faded into obscurity.

This is why Tamuur came to find the old hermit. It was done by using the old corridors and routes he and Silas pioneered years ago, into the unknown areas of the ship. Kamar had taken up residence in what used to be a small office, in a dead corridor just outside of the main habitation areas of the ship.

Tamuur, sitting cross-legged before the old officer, learned the truth in an instant when Kamar turned on the light.

Before both of them was an array of things- conical shaped shells, large round bombs, three hand-sized pistols, clips, ammunition, grenades… things that Tamuur thought only existed in legend. It stunned him to learn firearms and weaponry were actually aboard this ship.

"You want to learn about explosives," Kamar said simply in that room, following a long conversation where Tamuur gave the old man an excuse of trying to further his technical knowledge.

"I want to learn how to disarm them." Tamuur replied.

This raised Kamar's eyebrows. The old man leaned back, "You plan on freeing the ship."

Tamuur flinched, unable to hide his surprise. He hadn't told Kamar his reasons for why he needed this knowledge.

"I thought of it myself… as well as my grandfather and his father before then. Since the days of our exile we sought to disarm the ship and consider breaking free."

Tamuur remained under Kamar's intense gaze. Tamuur blinked as he dawned on him there may have been a reason it had not been done yet. "Is it foolish to try?" Tamuur asked.

A smile lit Kamar's face. He leaned forward, rasping, "Until this day, all who have been tried have been too old to attempt it. They learn too late, and aren't as nimble. The traps that are arrayed across the ship are much, much too effective for these old hands to accomplish."

Kamar leaned back saying, "I listen to what they say about you, Tamuur. You like to tinker and meddle… just the kind of child we have been waiting for to come along. I will teach you how these weapons work… starting with the deadliest."

Kamar produced from the shadows a menacing looking weapon. As tall as the span of a man's fingertip to his elbow, the device was a pole with a spherical implement at its center. Deadly finger-sized projections were positioned about the sphere, but not enough to imply that they were to be hurled. They had to have some kind of function.

"My weapons are inert," Kamar said, "Those who imprisoned us perhaps left them in jest. Fortunate perhaps, so that a mistake won't end us both. Now," He leaned back, "Tell me how you would go about disarming this device."

Tamuur examined it. He had no idea where to begin, or how explosives worked. All he could do was guess… and speculate based on what he knew. He studied the spines and saw in each of them a series of small holes. He saw the small glassy projections in each.

"These," Tamuur pointed, "These are sensors of some kind."

"Observant." Kamar nodded, "They are laser sights. Once activated, the mine projects them along designated paths. Any interruption of that laser path will detonate the warhead. This is one of several trigger mechanisms, and it is the hardest to diffuse, as any interruption of the laser will result in death."

Tamuur drunk all of this in, and prepared himself to learn everything he needed for this feat.

* * *

The healer shook his head, "I don't know if it's wise today. He's been acting rather peculiar."

"How peculiar?" Miriam asked the healer, holding to her chest a batch of baked breads.

"He hasn't spoken… he just stares." Replied the healer, "stares into space. None of us have brought him out of it yet."

"Perhaps I can try." Miriam answered.

The healer considered her for a moment more. He then said, "I may regret this… you'll have to leave the bread however. He's on a strict diet."

"It's a gift." She frowned.

"I know," Replied the healer, "But we cannot give him anything outside the prescription in the manual."

"I understand," Miriam said, handing the parcel over. The healer took it and turned to the guards. After some words, Miriam was permitted into the space where Silas had been living for the past few months.

It was made from what used to be one of the operating theaters. The chair and other implements were long gone- all that remained were the round holes and empty gaps in the floor where they used to be connected. In their place, a cot, a desk, and a small dresser had been provided. Illumination was accomplished by an overhead light.

The room had changed some since she was last here. The furniture had been rearranged again, and writing was scrawled on the walls. Stained evidence betrayed the fact that this wasn't the first time he had done it. As they cleaned his walls from his writings, Silas would just remake them over and over again.

That's what he had been doing, but was interrupted when the door opened. His lean form, sitting hunched over his legs, was bent over with one hand reaching up with the thick stylus in mid-character. His head had turned to let his wide brown eyes stare at her.

"Miriam," He voiced, his voice was cracked and gravelly from disuse. He turned, dropping the stylus, and slowly approached her as he coughed to clear his throat. The guard beyond Miriam tensed, ready to leap into action if his charge decided to do something strange.

Cautiously, gently, Silas' hands reached out and touched Miriam on the arm, then her face. She smiled at him and his gentle touch.

He lowered his hand as he said, "I missed you… I missed you greatly…."

"I'm sorry I couldn't visit more often," Miriam replied, "But I've been busy… the deliverance has been taking up all my time."

"Deliverance…" Murmured Silas, eyes glazing over in thought.

Miriam smiled, "I had some bread to give you, but they told me you're on a strict diet…"

"It's fine…" Silas replied distantly, still staring into her face with a passive look.

Miriam's smile flickered, and she said, "You've changed Silas… I hope you get better soon…"

Silas nodded only once but said nothing as he stared into space.

The guard behind her cleared his throat. Miriam managed a smile and said, "I have to go… I'll try to see if I can visit you later…"

She stared into his passive face for a moment longer, trying to see if he actually knew she was here. She frowned a little, then turned away to keep him from seeing the sadness blossom on her face.

She was at the door when Silas finally spoke said, "Thank you, Miriam. Bless you."

The door closed with a heavy thud.

Silas remained standing, then dropped to the ground and fell on his side, shuddering. The guard outside couldn't determine if he was laughing or crying.

He was like that for ten minutes, before standing and grabbing the thick stylus. He stabbed the wall with it, and started writing what was, to him, the apocalypse.

* * *

"It's sad," She said when she met Tamuur, "He's so out of it now."

They were both in the forum and seated at the foot of the same statue Miriam and Silas performed before nearly a year ago. Beyond them, seven children were playing Sctach in the clearing.

Tamuur replied, "He overdosed on a medication. It was a hallucinogen, too. His mind-"

"I know," Miriam said, "I know…" She shook her head as she stared out at the children on the triangular field. She didn't want to think of what became of the poet.

Tamuur didn't want to dwell on what became of Silas, and found it easy to think about something else. He knew it wouldn't help Miriam by just changing the topic on her, but at the same time, Silas made the bed he was laying in over Tamuur's objections.

"Have you figured out what you're doing for the deliverance?" She asked, suddenly interrupting his thoughts.

She and Tamuur looked at one another.

Tamuur laughed, turning back to look at the children at play, "I think I have something."

"You do?" She perked, "What is it? Who is it for?"

Tamuur puffed out a breath of amusement, then said, "You're not supposed to tell."

Miriam laughed, and then said when she recovered, "You have me there. Is it good?"

"Oh yes," Tamuur replied, "It's good. I assure you, it'll be well worth it."

* * *

Tamuur's latest drawings were of the ship itself. He presented these to Kamar, when they met the next day.

"Accurate…" said Kamar, stylus to his lips as he considered it. He lowered the writing tool and traced a line, "There's a door here, along the third level, that nobody knows of except few."

"It goes to the bridge?" Tamuur asked.

"Yes," Kamar replied, then grunted, "But it's laced with dredgen mines."

The image of the menacing laser-activated mines returned to Tamuur's mind. In the end, they were next to impossible to disarm if placed properly. Kamar's tone seemed to indicate this was the case. Tamuur, though, knew there must be an alternative.

"That isn't the only way," He proposed.

"Indeed," Kamar said, slapping his stylus down, "Engineering. There might be a way there, since both areas are nearly adjacent. A whole lot closer than we are to the bridge now."

"There's a catch," Tamuur probed.

"The door is physically welded shut." Kamar confessed, "Industrial hands by the look of it. Still, a ventilation shaft is right over it that may lead to engineering. I don't have access to the plans."

"I have a good sense of direction." Tamuur replied, focused.

Kamar laughed, confusing Tamuur. Kamar leaned over and gently pounded Tamuur on the shoulder, saying, "You are focused… I like that. Tell me, is there any reason you want to do this suicidal thing?"

"Suicidal?" Tamuur replied, then shook his head, "I don't believe that."

"Good." Kamar replied and pointed, "Because you need that kind of thinking to survive this. The furthest anyone has gotten is inside that vent. It is mined, but only with Caliphas. You remember how to disarm those, right?"

Tamuur nodded. The Calipha mines were wall hugging circular mines that detonated on interruption of the laser line. In areas of close proximity like that, it was going to be difficult at best.

"And all this is provided they did not hard-code something into the system to prevent any tampering," Kamar replied, then looked at Tamuur, "Given this, do you still want to continue?"

Tamuur nodded, again serious. Not only was he going to finally be able to see engineering, but he was able to grant the greatest gift one could ever bestow on a people, let alone an individual.

Freedom. It was for Miriam.

* * *

The night came sooner than everybody expected really. Great plans were finally coming to a close.

The forum had been transformed. Tables were brought out of storage, and sheets were taken from empty tents and laid over the sea of tables. Candles, things so revered and previous that they were hardly ever seen most of the year, were brought to the center and lit. Food, prepared across the hundreds of tent homes and across a hundred styles despite the limitations, were brought to the tables also, with blessings.

People were gathering in the streets of the tent towns, many of them talking. Game floors were being set in the floor of the forum, and the dancing ring was occupied. The musicians, producing their ancient instruments, came forward and rehearsed. Members of the council were public once again, adorned in their garbs of office, speaking to the people. Craftsmen of all kinds were about with their constructed goods, ready for barter and trade of what could be made and established in the society of the ship.

Miriam had half a table to herself. She baked bread for this event, and constructed small trinkets of metal links and bolts. Though heavy, they were fashionable in some circles of the ships. The dancers like them because of the extra challenge.

As Miriam helped her mother, she kept an eye out for the tinkerer. His table was open, but he himself was absent. His goods were absent too… the least he would have done was presented something to display, if not to sell. It worried Miriam.

Her gift was ready. It was packed and hidden underneath the table. She was eager all afternoon to present it to him, and wanted desperately to know his reaction. She was also looking forward to amusing her female friends and dragging the machinist to the dancing ring to prove, once and for all, that he was a terrible dancer… despite how mechanically skilled he was.

"Mother," She asked, "have you seen Tamuur?"

The old woman, her blond hair long turned to grey, raised her head from her crafts. "No Miriam, I haven't… I thought you of all people would know where he is."

Though she smiled, Miriam's face remained concerned. She looked out into the audience once more, her eyes finally resting on the empty table space.

"Where are you, Tamuur…" she said softly.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Kamar asked for the last time, "You have a woman waiting for you out there. Why not wait?"

Tamuur looked up at the old officer from behind his dust mask. They were both in the forbidden corridor, beyond them was the denied entryway to the core areas of the ship.

"You trained me for this," Tamuur replied, "And I volunteered."

Kamar fell silent, staring at the boy. "Don't do anything stupid," He finally said with a smirk, and slapped the boy on the shoulder.

Determination in his eyes, Tamuur turned and climbed up the narrow confines of the corridor to the open vent. He ascended, crawling inside the narrow passageway and lead with his arms.

Claustrophobia hit him instantly. He would need to propel himself with his feet. This was an easy task if he were younger, but at mid-age, things were starting to get difficult.

He started singing to himself, softly, the song of dance. It was the tune he and Miriam were to dance to, he decided. Perhaps there may be time…

His first challenge appeared. The blue-white laser line was there, and at it's end was the round mine that denied his path. Tamuur reached into his left wrist with his right hand and produced the long metal wand. Shifting his shoulder to let the light play on it, he delicately reached forward and stopped.

Was he afraid?

Yes, he was.

He calmed down by blinking and taking a breath through the mask. This was a machine, no different from the machines that he had worked with hundreds of times in the past. It was a machine, though, with an explosive compound in it. Yet, that compound was useless if the detonator didn't tell it to explode.

The Detonator.

"TINK!"

The laser line disappeared.

Tamuur plucked the small metal pin from the round mine and let it drop. The mine came free not to long afterward. Fortunate that, with this class of mine, it reacted only when a charge went through the two combined substances. It wouldn't detonate if dropped or mishandled. He pushed the inert mine ahead of him as he continued down the narrow passageway.

He kept singing.

* * *

Miriam was in the dancing ring, but not staying with anyone. She averted the other boys' eyes, glancing occasionally at the empty table where Tamuur was supposed to be. She kept herself occupied.

The boys saw it after nearly ten minutes and knew there was no hope in approaching her. Her heart was already set- and many of the young men suspected her gift for him was a marriage request. They also suspected his was a marriage band, and nervousness had prevented him from appearing. After all, wasn't his only love machines?

Miriam whispered his name as the drums continued to beat, and the rattles continued to crash.

* * *

Humming the words, Tamuur continued.

The bend was the worst. If he were any taller it wouldn't have happened, and he could have been stuck, possibly with no way out. He nearly was at the turn, but concentrated. By a miracle of Sajuuk, his own lean form allowed him to traverse the bend. He was now in unknown territory.

The stifling confines of the vent almost made him gag. He closed his eyes and imagined the wide open space. The dancing ring. Miriam, in her wide white dress. Her smiling face, those eyes… the perfect shape of her chin. All these beautiful things.

He opened his eyes and continued through the vent for the last remaining mine in the terrible enclosure. He was singing the dancing song.

* * *

The poet was mad this hour.

Shirt off, a back laden in sweat, he had turned one portion of his circular wall into a great canvas. On it, he scribbled the longest scry he had ever done.

Proclaiming the glory of Kadesh, his strokes and penmanship matched the dancing song. In his mind he could see her again, and this time she was close to transitioning the ether and becoming real… embodied in Miriam the goddess.

"Kah-desh…Kah-desh….Kah-desh…" Silas wheezed over and over again, scribbling on the walls with the great stylus.

The circular crest was drawn on the floor.

* * *

Tamuur prayed.

And punched.

The grill came off without a problem and clattered to the floor. There was no explosion, no sounds of a tripwire, and definitely no sudden appearance in the ladle of Sajuuk. He was alive.

Tamuur the tinkerer emerged from the ventilation shaft and rolled. He found a pipe that circled the room, grabbed this, and pulled himself out of the narrow confines. ,His eyes closed, he caught his breath before he looked around at the most important room in the entire ship.

Engineering's back wall was dominated by one of the vast engines. Only part of the huge cylinder was visible, the rest of the walls dominated by cables and lights. The floor also had cables winding across the floor, but these Tamuur could tell were recent.

Tamuur scaled the pipe until he found a landing. Releasing himself, he dropped onto an instrument panel and hesitated. No sound, no explosion.

He made it to the floor and cautiously crossed it. There were no mines here, and no evidence of explosives or booby traps. Even though Kamar said nothing about hidden mines, it didn't diffuse Tamuur's caution.

He crossed to the center instrument panel and stopped for a moment, taking in the vastness of this cathedral. Engineering.

This was the heart of the ship. From here one could determine any function of the ship's mechanisms.

It was a church for his interests.

But he had come here for another purpose. If he succeeded, there was plenty of time to return and ply over the workings of this place. Now, he needed to cut the binds that held the wings.

The thick cables ran to a heavy yellow box that seemed recent even in this ancient engine room. It was attached to what was labeled as the central drive control column. This, he realized from his third-hand knowledge of ships, was the central direction system for the main engines. If it was rigged appropriately the machine could interpret any number of things as a sign to overload the engines and destroy the ship.

Such as what happened before, with the other vessel. They may have tried to free themselves as well and ended up agitating this device.

Tamuur knelt beside the thick cables to the device, observing the mysterious circular emblem with it's horned bar just beneath the center. It must have been the mark of the makers- something to remember. He returned to examining the hook.

This wasn't fused to the machinery. Unlike the door barring entry to this place, the control block wasn't melded to the machine it held lordship over. This was the first advantage.

The second was that directions were clearly printed on the side, intact, for it's deactivation. He squinted, remembering that this dialect was rusty. Then, with a note of humor, he identified Hiigaran writing underneath the alien scrawl, placed there seemingly for convenience. Tamuur read the instructions, and felt his heart sank.

OPERATION KEY.

Some kind of key was needed to figure this out. A key which, by all likeliness, had been lost to time. He would need to improvise.

Tamuur fished in his pockets and produced the thing he was looking for: a paperclip. Universally recognized for holding together the rare and finite paper, a small horde of them was abandoned up on the infirmary on level 01.

Tamuur quickly deformed the thing and shaped it right. He did the same with another one, and knelt beside the lock.

He finished reading the instructions. The key had to be turned and a button depressed in order for the assembly to be unlocked properly. This meant he would have to be a little creative in his solution- a key could be turned with one hand, but the lock was solved with two.

Having experience in a few locks already, Tamuur was a little disappointed with the simplicity of this one. It was a simple procedure to jam the clips in and hear the device click. He hesitated when it came to turning it… Not only would the clips have to be strong enough to turn the mechanism, but he would have to keep it turned as he somehow hit the button beside it.

Tamuur took a breath, and moved his hands. The lock turned, and Tamuur heard the click of approval.

Pulling the dust mask off with his knee, he jammed his nose into the button. He reached around with his free fingers and pried.

The mechanism parted, and Tamuur raised a foot to help pull the heavy plug off. In this complicated knot of positioning, it did so, and fell to the floor with a satisfying thud. Tamuur, on his back, took time to breathe as he stared up at the bare ceiling.

Then he stared to laugh with joy. There was no going back now, but he had already defeated not one, but two tests of their ancient antagonists.

He would defeat the others.

* * *

Sitting down at her table, Miriam was sullen. She played with one of her trinkets in her hands, her mind pondering where the man of her affections was.

Her mother sat down beside her as she said, "You seem lost."

Miriam turned to look at her mother, and then back at the trinket, "Nobody knows where he is, mother. I… I wonder why he hasn't shown…"

"Have you tried his room?" Miriam's mother asked.

"What?" She asked.

"His room!" Replied the mother, "Maybe he's sulking, or nervous. Either way, go to him and find out what's on his mind!" She laughed.

Miriam immediately got up and did so, if not to find Tamuur than to get away from the disappointing party without him.

* * *

Tamuur's next test was not in the corridor. That was strangely silent. It was dark, but that didn't come as a surprise.

The door to the bridge was unsealed. It also had a window window peering into the room. Tamuur pressed his masked face against it to look inside.

With dread noticed the red laser lines arcing through the room. While he had avoided the nest of Dregden mines, there were at least four positioned in the octagonal command cabin. There were also Caliphs present… one, annoyingly enough, pointed right at the door which Tamuur was standing behind.

With some degree of horror, he realized he could not open the door without setting off that mine.

Unless…

He returned to engineering and started to investigate. One staple of all ships was a fully stocked supply cabinet. All ships had them in engineering. It was a mandate in ancient times that all ships, transports, carriers, combat ships, needed to have the tools necessary to calm a fusion rocket engine. This ship could not be an exception, unless it was so alien and removed that it operated under different standards.

The supply closet, Tamuur found, was generously supplied. It had all the tools he came to expect it to have- right down to the thermal saw. He took this and the longarm- an extendable pole with a three-fingered claw at the end. With these things, he proceeded back to the door.

Setting up by the door, he peered back into the cabin and tried to decipher where the laser struck. Precision was everything… and luck. He hoped that was the only line focused on this door.

The laser cutter would take too much time, though it may have been appropriate in a situation like this. The Thermal Saw was much more dramatic, and even though it took up a lot of power it was still effective. Essentially a long paddle the length of a man's arm, the blade would heat to extreme temperature and make anything it touched- metal, plastic, and people- melt under the extreme heat.

Tamuur held the saw like a blade in his hands as the metal warmed. From a dull red, the paddle turned to an angry orange. Tamuur could feel the heat rising from the blade and through his gloves- raw power in almost raw form. He stabbed this into the door and started to saw through raw metal. The door gave way like butter to a hot knife. It would be impossible to open normally now, but that problem could also be solved with the saw.

Once the section had been sawed out, Tamuur kicked it gently. The section fell to the floor with a heavy thud and cooled there. No trip lines had been activated, and a clear hole was available for him.

He allowed the saw to cool to acceptable levels before setting it down and taking the long arm tool. Changing the hands on the end for more delicate operations, he knelt beside the hole he had created to examine the interior.

Even though the chunk of door didn't set off any trip lines, the dredgen lines did cross the floor between the door and the offending door-watcher. The longarm would have to be very steady.

Tamuur found his diffusion wand again and placed it in the closed fist of the long arm. Bracing by the door, he projected the telescopic hand into the room. With both hands he supported the sturdy engineering tool- finger closed around the trigger tight to assure the hand did NOT drop the diffusion rod.

The hand approached the mine, waving some before settled by Tamuur's grip. With the silent tension, the wand closed with the mine's surface. The trick was to find the small diffusion plate- roughly the size of a man's fingernail, just beside the laser sight.

Tamuur didn't have much alternative. A creative solution could be to cut into the door enough again to allow him permission to try to squeeze through. He could probably do it now even, but he would feel a lot safer moving if that mine was diffused. Carefully, at the speed of a crawl, the diffusion rod closed with the small pad just under the sight.

He pushed.

"CLIK!"

The laser line disappeared.

Taking a big breath of releif, Tamuur recalled the arm gently and with both hands. With the arm safely recovered, he studied the hole he made in the door before stepping around and into the space provided. He looked about the room and counted about a dozen mines, all of them accessible, and placed as if by mandate requirement, not to cause serious menace.

Tamuur took a breath, and started working.

* * *

"Tamuur?" Miriam asked just outside the tent. The lights were off.

Gently she pushed past the flaps and looked around inside the dim surroundings of the tent. He wasn't there on the bed, nor was he bent over work like she half expected him to be.

She scanned the room. Everything was more or less in place- the constructs were all in their proper places, all his papers arranged….

Sighing in disappointment she abandoned the tent and returned to the party and the dance. Her face became a mask then, an impassive face of disappointment. Where was Tamuur?

She reentered the dance ring, but there was no enjoyment there. It was just something to do, passing the time and waiting for the celebration to be over. In the dance she lost herself, performing the motions as her mind wandered separately.

Only when a firm hand grasped her own did she come out of it. The hand was familiar- the grip unique. She looked up into Tamuur's eyes.

The man pulled her away from the dance, smiling. Several of the audience noticed and immediately started to gossip about what this could mean. Miriam, mindless, followed Tamuur as her mind whirled with the possibilities

As she walked behind him wordlessly she recalled that time long ago when he lead her to that contraption of his. As she thought about it, it was that moment that started him on his path to become a master tinkerer of their people.

What destiny was he leading to this time?

Suddenly it occurred to her where they had been going right as they reached what should have been a forbidden door. "Tamuur," She asked, "Where are we going?"

He only smiled at her before reaching a hand out to her. Looking at it, then at him, she hung in that moment as she stared at him… his face, his calm, confident smile. She could see his eagerness to show her this thing.

Well, she figured with a smile, this must have been payback for the time she lead him into The Seeing Room, where their adventures began. She took his hand.

They passed through a hall which, hours before, had been certain death. He approached the door that had not been seen by human eyes for nearly a century, and passed through it with her.

Miriam, as if in a dream, walked inside and finally realized where she was.

The entire octagonal room was alight with glowing instruments. Panels, consoles, controls and mechanisms were all functioning. Computers, which only existed in the medical ward and in myth, now hummed at her with the information ready to present. She only noted the pile of deactivated warheads and devices in passing.

"Tamuur…" she breathed in awe, "This… this is…"

"The bridge." He replied, standing by the helm station. His eyes went from the panels and drifted up the floor to her as he said, "I wanted to give you the greatest gift I could give anyone, Miriam. I wanted to give you the gift of freedom."

"F-freedom?" Miriam repeated. She looked around the control room as her mind gave her an answer she could not accept.

* * *

Silas looked up from his work. Something was wrong.

He looked over the lettering, the words, and the things he had written. It suddenly sprang to him that it was all wrong. The drawings were unworthy. The words were terrible. Everything was turning to nonsense.

With a sigh he realized… perhaps he lost her. He lost her voice. He lost Kadesh.

Sighing, he dropped the stylus and approached the heavy door. Hitting it three times, it opened to show the guard's face.

"Can I go for a walk?" He asked simply, "It's getting stuffy in here."

The guard closed the door. Silas sighed and waited for the guard to get permission. As he looked at his drawings, they were becoming increasingly incomprehensible. He closed his eyes and put his fingers to his temples. No… this couldn't happen… he had to remain focused. For her… for the Goddess…. For embodied passion…

The door opened. "Ok, come on," The guard said with an annoyed tone. Silas grabbed his autotab and walked with the guards out of his cell.

In the Seeing Room, he approached the window once again and leaned on the sill, staring out into space with his mouth slightly agape. He leaned and waited… waiting for kadesh to appear.

* * *

Tamuur seated himself in the helm station as Miriam grappled with the ramifications of what Tamuur just told her. "Where do you want to go?" He asked.

Miriam shook her head, still in awe and surprise from the gift he was giving. "Wh-What do you mean Tamuur? Are… Are you saying… we can move the ship?"

"Yes." Tamuur replied and gestured to the controls, "With all these instruments, I can tell the ship to change direction. We can leave, Miriam! We can go wherever we want now, we don't have to follow this caravan to wherever it is they are going! Don't you see, we can decide our own fate now, we can wander the stars and find our own haven!"

Miriam shook her head as her hesitance started to well up within her. All she had thought about was a satisfying life with a brilliant man. Together they would sire many children, perhaps lead the survivors, and cultivate a family worthy of envy. She had enough adventurism from Silas, now Tamuur was giving her promises of wonder too?

But Tamuur's promises were real, and whatever he promised, he made good on his delivery. He had built his world with his hands, not visions. And now they were in the nerve center of this mighty ship with every control at his command. He could do it.

Euphoria built up in her as she realized what he was saying. The grin grew wider as she also saw, at last, her people could decide their own destiny. Tamuur had given them wings, and he was asking her where they should fly.

Her eyes scanned the heavens, and then saw it outside.

"There…" She said and pointed.

Tamuur looked.

The trail of ships was leading them past a gigantic cloud. The haze of pink, now beside them, was illuminated with brilliant red and pink light. In the ever evening of the galactic light, the nebula beyond looked as welcoming and placid as a crib to a newborn babe.

Tamuur nodded. The choice was appropriate. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen outside of the starship.

He hit the buttons and activated the controls. The course was changed.

There was no divine punishment. Tamuur had already assured there would be none. Minor course corrections yielded no death or destruction. Now this was the great change.

The huge ship's ancient thrusters fired along the bow and a great shudder was felt through the deck plates of the ship. The massive ship pitched upward before beginning to roll. Miriam crossed to the windows and looked out at the long convoy of ships they were departing.

"So many…" She said as her hand touched the glass. She lost count as the massive free ship arced up and away from the caravan.

Tamuur maintained an eye on all the systems. There were no faults, no flaws, and no complications. Sajuuk, indeed, had blessed him. If it were not for the carelessness of their captors in abandoning a manual here, Tamuur may have left this task for another day. Instead he found the detonation keys and command code pamphlet abandoned at the very station he was seated. Though faded, Tamuur had read them enough to free the ship from its virtual shackles.

And now they were free.

Tamuur turned, "Miriam…"

She turned also, looking at him intently. She crossed to him and took his hands. He turned in the seat, laughed with her at the loud creak it made, and welcomed her into his lap. In the silence alone, they shared their intimacy.

* * *

The guards were in a panic. One of them ran off to tell the rest of the ship the news. The sky was changing.

Silas, staring outside, saw the red and white fringes. His eyes, widened, started immediately to make out her face in the shape of the clouds.

"Kadesh…" He realized. He smiled at this, and pressed his face to the glass, "Kadesh you are real….oh…."

It all made sense now, his vision. By prophecy this had happened. It was all making sense now.

They had been delivered, by her Grace and Benevolence.


	5. 1:4 Revelation

**1:4 Revelation**

There was mass panic in the streets that took hours to settle. They didn't know who was the first to say it, but when news that the sky had changed and the caravan disappeared, many felt Sajuuk's judgment was upon them. Were they, in fact, the ladle already? Were they all headed for the well as they spoke, to venture into the afterlife?

The stars had vanished. Instead they were surrounded by a milky red haze. Perhaps this was Hades, perhaps they were all dead. Perhaps their exile was only to become worse here, in this place of eternal torment. Perhaps this was the realm of Khelan-Jaat himself.

The council was much more level headed. Someone had changed course and abandoned the convoy. They were about to round up the usual suspects to begin the interrogation when the very man responsible presented himself to them.

The council convened immediately.

* * *

Tamuur stood at the center of the U-shaped gathering. This room had once been a cafeteria, behind Tamuur was the very place where lunch trays would have been served to work crews that would have dined here. Now those trays were full of decorative symbols made over the century of their exile.

Beside him was Miriam, holding his hand as she also looked up at the council. Once they left the bridge, they both knew they would share the fate of one another, in life of death. The twelve of the council all stared at the pair from the high vantage point of their seats. Some of them had furious contempt behind their eyes- others showed puzzlement. Still others were gazing contemplatively at the couple, with a hint of amusement at their audacity.

Beside them was a door that, in ancient times, lead to a workshop for cargo vehicles. Here is where the audience stood for this meeting. They were all silent as they watched the trespassers were put on trial.

Tamuur squeezed Miriam's hand.

The president of the quorum, after the litany of meeting had finished, spoke first. "Why have you done this thing?" This was Abel, oldest and wisest of the assembled councilmen. At his voice the council's whispering bickering fell silent.

"I did it for Miriam." Tamuur replied, "And for the people."

Another man, to Abel's right, spat at Tamuur, "Your actions could have destroyed us!" This was Cain, the most religiously fanatical of the group. His face was contorted in anger- his was the most outrageous voice of the council. "Has you small mind contemplated the consequences of guiding our ship into the very heart of Hades itself?!"

"Gentlemen, please." Abel toned forcefully. Cain settled down at Abel's command least he be suspended from attending the next three consecutive council meetings. This was not wise for a person in power like Cain.

"I trained for the risk" Tamuur replied, "I alone take full responsibility for any punishment you wish to give. The idea was mine, and I did it because I wanted to free our people and for once in our lifetimes have the power of choice over our fate."

Murmurs passed between the audience and some of the council.

Abel raised a hand, "I do not think it is necessary to issue punishment before we fully comprehend the result of your actions." Abel lowered his hand and relayed, "You are a tinkerer. You are well known for your aptitude in all things mechanical, technological, and advanced. It is natural then for your curiosity to desire such things-"

Tamuur interrupted Abel and voiced,, "But I did this act deliberately! I trained for this and put this plan into motion. It was my will to free our people from a fate we did not choose!"

This also let another wave of murmurs and uproar from between the council and the audience. Cain stared death at Tamuur, but the ship's new captain ignored it. Let the religious orders hound him for changing the status quo- in time, Tamuur would help the people lift out of squalor to a life they knew only in the ancient myths of their people.

Abel leaned forward, "I wasn't meaning to imply that you were acting out of compulsion, young man. Rather, your passionate study of the machines on this ship has made you the best qualified among us to undertake such a venture. While we are divided as to weather or not we should punish you, we understand that what has happened, has happened, for better or for worse. For now, we should celebrate in our deliverance from the intentions of the ancient evil we left behind, and consider any punishment of your person for a later date."

Cain's gaze shot to Abel, but one of the three women of the council spoke, "What of his trespassing? It is punishable by death, is it not? Should we not consider this when we see him, now?"

"Yes, sister," the elderly Abel replied, "But consider the measure of his works aside the gravity of his transgression."

"He could have killed us." Cain muttered aloud.

"But he didn't." Another one of the council said, "And it seems to me he took extra careful precaution to make sure that did not happen. Have you counted the explosives recovered from that room, councilman Cain? The boy showed remarkable patience and skill for disarming them all and bringing our world under his command."

Cain's face flushed at the implications that one boy had managed to usurp the power of Sajuuk, and his voice blasted into quoting scriptures. The table started to descend into heated debate once again.

Under the arguing, Tamuur turned his head to Miriam. She looked back, hand still clasping his, wondering silently what kind of fate the council would ultimately deliver onto them.

Abel managed to calm the conversation down by banging the sounding sphere. Rapping the heavy globe on the table thrice, his call to attention was heeded and the room fell silent once more.

"Now then," Said Abel, "As we have established…once again… that the subject is greatly controversial, I move that we put the vote to the people. After all, it is they who are affected most by Tamuur's, dare I say, miraculous work. I say we put this matter before them in a public vote for the duration of tomorrow."

A wave of surprise rippled among the audience. Very rarely had measures of such gravity been put to the people to decide upon, as the council was supposed to be the wisest men and women of their city.

Among the councilors there were nods of acceptance, but Cain rose to protest once again. "No!" he declared, standing, "No! The people elected us to be their leaders, to take hold and understand the law and position of leadership. I say, as one of the twelve educated in the that law laid down since our exodus, that we exercise what was expressly written and execute this violator. Then we must find some way to reverse the damage before it is too late!"

Abel, rather than confront Cain, turned his head and asked, "Does anyone second this motion?"

Glances were exchanged, but nobody raised a hand. Perhaps it was too much, seeing Tamuur there with his woman holding his hand. Or perhaps it was indeed the lift of the miracle that convinced the council to stay their wrath- at least for now- to let the people consider.

"Huhm… I didn't think so," Abel said, and then looked down at Tamuur, "Young man, I hereby place you under house arrest for the duration of tomorrow, pending the outcome of the public survey. In other words, no wandering about the ship."

Tamuur winced, "Someone needs to steer the ship in case something comes in the way."

"We will have people watching." Replied Abel, "In case something does occur… we will send for you. But, for the appeasement of some…disagreeing elements of this council, I insist upon confinement for now. That is not to say you are strictly isolated… but we want you in reach, should the outcome not be favorable to your person."

Tamuur wanted to protest, but held his tongue. This was the first time he had to even think about religious fanatics, and felt Cain's hard stare on him. "I understand…"

Abel looked at Cain, considered a moment, and said, "I am ordering Miriam to be confined with you. Since it appears the two of you are very obviously sharing the same fate, it makes sense to me to confine the two of you. Guards will be posted to ensure you obey this law, this time."

* * *

Enduring the stares Miriam and Tamuur returned to the tent abode of the mechanic. Four guards went with them to ensure they made it there, and surrounded the tent on all corners to make sure they could not escape.

Sitting himself down on his bed again, Tamuur sighed. Miriam remained standing and looked down at him. After a moment, Tamuur raised his head with a smile.

"So," he asked, "Are you going to be my keeper?"

She smiled and answered, "I don't think they take volunteers…"

She sat down beside him and he drew her into an embrace. They held each other as they sat on the bed.

"I hope you liked your gift." He murmured into her ear.

She laughed and returned into his embrace, "I…." She laughed again.

Tamuur's hands slowly rubbed across her back- the fingertips pressing through the cloth and into the skin gently. "We can go were we want now. We can find a planet maybe… someplace like Hiigara."

"The council might not let us." She said. "They might decide in the end things were better the way they were and kill you."

Tamuur's hands stopped. "It's out of their hands now. It's up to the people if I live or die. Besides, If they want to put things to right, I'm the only one who could do it."

"Aren't you scared about what the people will decide though?"

Tamuur hesitated about that. He wasn't scared when he was diffusing the mines, nor was he frightened when he made it to engineering. The only fear he felt in that whole episode was when he may have been trapped in that duct with no way out.

But he thought of Miriam, and the fear had alleviated.

"No." He replied, then resumed rubbing her back, "Not this time."

Nodding, she sighed as she leaned her head against his shoulder, "I am."

"Everyone knows who I am, all the favors I've done." Tamuur replied.

"But you don't know…" Breathed against the collar of his shirt, "What if Cain can get enough people to vote against you? He is the religious center of the ship…"

"People might gamble better over their souls than allow me a little safety," Tamuur sighed, "I hadn't thought of that… But," He looked down, "We aren't dead yet. Sajuuk is still protecting us, even here."

She raised her head to look into his eyes.

"You picked our destination, didn't you?" He said, "It couldn't be dangerous if you picked it, Miriam."

She smiled, and then replaced her head against his shoulder. He leaned back and she followed, the pair of them laying back in the bed. After a moment of adjustment they fell asleep together.

* * *

By the time of the ship's next night cycle, the votes had arrived. Cain left the council chambers in disgust.

His aides following him, Cain ranted as he made his way angrily from the chamber. "That heretic is being released, all because the people think he brought them to salvation."

"Sah," One of the aides said, "We cannot go against the will of the majority… and we certainly cannot persuade the other religious leaders to act against him. They all think he's a miracle from Sajuuk himself… perhaps… even a modern day prophet-"

Cain turned and stared the aide in the face with a red mask of anger. Pointing a finger at the aide's nose, he said, "Never voice that implication to me again."

The aide, shocked by the severity of his charge's challenge, just stood on the deck as Cain and the other aide continued to walk.

"We need to find something to use against this heretic," Cain said, "If common sense won't defeat him, what will?"

"Sir," The second aide said, "He is not one of the council. He cannot possibly be in a position to harm you."

"Yet." Replied Cain and waved a hand, "Didn't you hear the awe, the reverence, they were granting to this boy? They forgave him of the most heinous transgression permissible under our common law. And the implications! We survived by a miracle, not by some exception in our legal system! It won't be long before they elect him to council."

Cain then had a memory hit him. "Wait, didn't this delinquent have a partner in crime?"

"Miri-"

"No, not the girl. There was a boy, when we were reviewing that boy's history. Some child that's gone insane or something."

"Silas, sir." The aide replied, "He's been interned by council orders in the medical ward for negligent consideration of medication."

"Negligent consideration…. Ah…" Cain said, "Well, perhaps we should ratify this little mistake at once."

"Sir?" The aide asked.

Still walking, Cain changed direction to head to the lower deck. "It seems we are letting trespassers of the law go free today. As our delinquent "savior" has been excepted from the law this one time, so we must except his friend."

"… I don't think this is really wise, sir." The aide said.

"You don't?" Asked Cain, stopping on the stairway and saying, "Why?"

"He poisoned his mother, sir, unknowingly… I think," The aide said, "There's no telling what other kinds of accidents he'd cause if he was let loose… some say he's mad."

"But we allowed Tamuur to roam free, and he could have killed us all with his meddling in the forbidden areas. He remains unpunished, while this other youth remains locked up in the hospital ward!" Cain waved his hands at the end of his statement, then started off for a new destination.

The aide, hesitating, followed.

* * *

Silas returned home after nearly a year in confinement.

His things were reorganized. Stumbling into the darkened burlap housing, he ran his hands through the dark as he tried to find something familiar.

The bed.

Hands accelerating he swept his fingers under the mattress cover. They- they had to be here! The Miracles! THEY MUST BE HERE!

….To his dismay, they weren't.

In a second wave of energy he flipped the mattress over. Nothing there in the dim light. He even went down on the springs, supported the thin mattress up on his back as his hands probed for it. He felt the floor under the bed.

The miracles were gone.

His eyes tearing up, he crawled off the bed and sat on the floor. When the white-robed man released him from his confinement, the one hope was that he could find the pills again in his room. He had more than just that one- he had plenty. Now he had come home to a home that wasn't a home- a place that was no longer his.

He sobbed for a moment more, then produced the thing he had hidden under his shirt. The autotab, stolen from his ward in the medical area. It had everything- the stylus, the information nail, everything. It was fully functional.

But it was mechanical. It could break down.

His hands launched again, fumbling through the thick things. He opened the dresser and found it there. Yes. Paper.

He pulled it all out, taking a fist and closing it within the drawer to pull out a few styluses. He dumped them on the mattress, along with the paper, before reaching up around the seam of the tent. Ripping it open some to permit the ever-present light to enter, he returned to sit cross-legged on the bed with the autotab present and the thick ream of medical paper on his lap.

He started to transcribe. This time he would take his time, making the text ornate and including pictures. For a man supposedly mad, his calligraphy was beautiful. The pictures, also, were fantastic, and the first letter of every sheet was expanded by three and decorated ornately.

Functioning without sleep for 27 Hiigaran hours, Silas started to transcribe his Word.

* * *

Tamuur was given the news the next morning. It was delivered by a messenger who, after hearing no response from the tent, opened the flap to see if the occupants were in. Tamuur was wiping an eye, while Miriam was still resting beside him with her hand on his chest.

After clearing the sleep from his eye, Tamuur noticed the courier. The messenger smiled. "Cozy?"

Tamuur grunted. It was the shortest form of 'get out' he could manage at the moment. Miriam sucked in a breath as she awoke, but kept her eyes closed. Tamuur vacated the bed, Miriam pulled the covers up over her.

Tamuur, rubbing his face still, came to the door and asked, "The verdict in?"

"You're going to live, sir."

"That's good."

"The council wanted me to tell you that the people are grateful for your past actions and decided to let you live, knowing that whatever you have done was in the best interest of the ship and the population."

"Uh…"

The courier smiled again. "Do you plan on celebrating?"

Tamuur, in mid-wipe of his face, stopped. "What?" The courier glanced into the tent. Tamuur half-turned, then realized what he was speaking of. He glared at the courier. Still smiling, the man made a short bow and hurried off.

Tamuur returned into the tent. Miriam was moving.

"What was that all about?" she muttered.

Tamuur, sliding into the bed beside her, gave her a kiss as he rode right next to her. "I'm going to live."

"Oh," She mumbled, "Good…" She clasped his head and gave him a kiss.

Chuckling, Tamuur grabbed the sheets.


	6. 1:5 Gospel

**1.5 Gospel**

The massive starship was hull number 407. In ancient times, it had been called the Araraht-Nahb. Its purpose, originally, was as a bulk transport vessel with the option to convert to a casual passenger carrier. In it's current state, it was halfway between the two.

The compliment was something akin to 1,270 people in the hold. It had been designed for, at maximum, twice that many. Supplies, as the populace found out, were meant for only short range interstellar travel between ports.

The ship had a hyperspace module in theory. Tamuur, their captain, believed in this until he went to engineering to see the core for himself. It was there, just as he believed it was. With it, he told the people, they had the power to determine their own destinies.

The council was hesitant.

They had already made one great leap of faith one year ago, willingly or not, when Tamuur himself delivered them from the trail of tears. There was a fear, rightfully so, of the ancient evil somehow learning of their escape and sending minions to destroy them. With this kind of risk, it was better to hide in the mists of this place, where visibility and sensor range were complicated.

So, for now, the Araraht-Nahb cruised in the center of the Nebula.

* * *

The bridge was lively today. They were watching the birth of a star.

The bridge crew, idle at their stations, stood by the windows and watched the small ember light with increasing intensity. The Captain remained seated in the helm chair, looking out the windows himself from his seat. He would have kept looking had a hand not gently landed on his shoulder.

Tamuur turned, and beheld a sight even more splendid than any stellar phenomena. He smiled, saying her name, "Miriam."

Like the sun rising from the horizon, Miriam's smile dawned. Tamuur was once again riveted to his seat as he beheld her- consumed in a feeling that nothing mechanical could ever replicate.

Laughing the feeling off, he said, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit you," Miriam replied, waving her head as she leaned down to his face, "The great captain can't be left alone with his machines, can he?"

"No," Tamuur responded, "not when you command otherwise."

Laughing, she kissed him. Some of the crew turned to see their captain with his woman, chuckled, and returned to watching the nebula. One of them had the gaul to call out, "Get a room... sir."

Laughter lit the octagonal command cabin and Tamuur smiled as he considered his officers. He had trained all of them himself over the last year. This, now, was much closer to a real bridge than he had ever expected having. Miriam's presence aside, it gave him a feeling of satisfaction to be in command on a working, functional, starship. Still… it felt like something was lacking. He inherited this ship, not crafted it. Somehow, he vowed, that would have to change.

Tamuur decided to take his officer's advice and vacate the bridge with her. He did, in fact, have a room in mind.

* * *

It had been finished.

He had it out and open. The thick text was stained at the edges with gold, so that when it was closed, it signified the holiness of the text. The paper itself was worn and yellowed from sitting out for a while until the entire work was finished.

He was reading from it.

He had emerged from his self-imposed exile barely a week ago. Rumor had spread in the past year about the fate of Silas; that he had been changed somehow by abandoning the trail of tears.. No longer human, it was said Silas had become the curse of Khelan-Jaat. He wandered the shadows in between decks, stealing food and other small things to advance his plan to destroy them all. This was to avenge defying Sajuuk's will of punishment.

Ask any of the council though, and they would tell you he was just a neglected child, independent and wild from his many years of no attention. He deserved pity, not fear, for what he had become.

Whatever the case, he was sitting shirtless and cross-legged in the forum before the statue. His big book was sitting in his lap unbound, with his hands resting on his knees. As he read he shifted the unbound sheafs gently and without breaking the beat as he read openly. His voice was loud and carried across the courtyard, much as he had done when he read the poetry of long ago. It was as if he was making up for the long silence before he emerged.

"…cast out of heavens for our immortal sins- banished forever to a path no light will ever shine upon once again. With the haven of light behind, the turbulent path was laid out for feet to tread. The people were exiled on this road, away from the light and the heavens, to tread into the darkness.

But Kadesh took pity on the people, and called to them. 'Come,' She said, "come to my garden, my resting place. I will shield you from the wickedness and evil in the stars…"

As he read aloud he caught the attention of passersby. Some had even sat before him to listen to what he was saying, trying to figure it out. Behind them were the casual listeners, who listened for a moment before drifting off to go about their business.. At the back were the critics, some of them firm believers in the word of Sajuuk, and whispered to their fellows about how this blasphemer would spend eternity dumped outside of the well of Sajuuk, dashed into oblivion.

Whatever the case, he was drawing a crowd with his rambling.

* * *

Tamuur smiled as he watched Miriam's face blossom with wonder after they passed through a new doorway.

Her hands ran along the metal walls. It wasn't just because they were actually painted in a vivid green, but because they represented something out of a dream. She stopped at the center of the small room and looked around with her eyes wide. She looked to Tamuur, standing in the doorway, with her smiling eyes and mouth agape in wonder.

Finally she asked, "It's ours?"

Tamuur nodded. "Captain's quarters are supposed to be given to the captain. The council allowed me to do what I wanted with it, and it made the most sense since it was closer to the bridge than anywhere else."

Smiling Miriam bounced to Tamuur and gave her man a big hug. "It's wonderful!" She said into the fabric of his shirt, a smile hidden under the folds. "Our own place…."

Tamuur's eyes scanned the bare room. He had cleaned it out himself, coming here on his off-shift to make sure the place was secure. After recovering some tools and removing some debris, he had cleaned the room as best as he could with what cleaning materials he could find. It was hard to polish the walls and floors without any solvents- water was precious onboard. Apart from the pre-painted green walls, this was a bare room. A single square of light was set in the ceiling, illuminating the room about as well as the main floor of the cargo decks.

Miriam's excitement bubbled over what this meant. In the village privacy was very nearly a commodity in itself- since the tent walls were thin and blocked only the sight of one another. Sound was very conductive. To have this enclosure, one that could be sealed behind a metal door, it meant she would be able to enjoy total privacy and be as loud as she wished in whatever she did. She could sing now, without annoying their neighbors.

It also meant Tamuur was welcoming her into his private spaces… to stay. They had been together now for so long that her entry to his abode was a matter of course, but only occasionally had she remained overnight with him. This was something new, he was bringing her into this special space.

She was so overcome with emotion all she could do was grip Tamuur tighter. "When can we move in?" She asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her tone.

"Anytime," Replied Tamuur, wincing against the strength of her grip..

"Let's do it now, then." She said and craned her head up at him suddenly. "I'm not doing anything today, are you?"

Tamuur took a moment to think, then smirked, "Up until a moment ago I was supposed to be the captain of this ship. I've trained my crew well, they can do without me for a few hours."

His hand slid down her arm and into her own hand, and together the two of them started off for the city.

* * *

The crazy man was followed in the streets. First it had been children making fun of him and his book. Then it was the curious, asking the man questions about his reading to see if he was serious about his message. Then came the interested, who followed him with more questions to learn about his message.

Holding the book, the young man responded to the inquires with generosity and seriousness of a man possessed by religion.

News of the man and his message had spread like wildfire. Eventually word reached the council of how many people were listening to this man.

"Who let that madman loose?" Cain asked when he heard the news from an aide. The two of them were standing in one of the largest tents of the village, which had been designated as the Shrine to Sajuuk. This was after service, when the few adherents had shuffled out of the enclosure.

"You did, sir." The Aide said, a little surprised his master had forgotten.

"I did? For what… ah," he suddenly realized, "This is that acquaintance of 'the captain', is it not?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, then I-" Cain started to say, but halted as a man passed through the tent doors and advanced down the row of seats at an urgent pace. Seeing men like this before, Cain asked him, "What is it?"

The man spoke when he was in earshot. "Sir, Councilman Abel wishes to see you immediately."

Cain looked about him to try finding an excuse not to answer the old codger's summons. Finally he sighed and grunted,. "Very well. Lead on."

The two of them crossed part of the village, leaving the clustered downtown areas of the city and venturing into the lesser tents. Abel's above was here, nearly identical to the other dwellings surrounding it but slightly larger by a degree. Abel had to entertain more than just himself in this abode.

The courier held the flap open and, after hesitating, Cain entered. Abel was behind the large metal table that served as a desk. Seated with him aside the desk were two other council members.

Abel looked up. "Cain," He said, "I'm pleased you could join us. Sit, make yourself comfortable."

Abel pointed to the solitary chair to his left. Cain sat down in it saying, "I hope this is worth my time Abel, I'm a busy man."

"No doubt you are." Siress Bethel chided from her place at Abel's right. Cain shot the woman a bitter glance.

"Siress, please." Abel toned, "This assembly is not to address the councilman's application of piety. However, we do find it ironic that you, a man of faith, ended up releasing a heretic from medical custody."

Cain frowned and waved a hand, "A mere upstart. Had religion been law as it should, he would have already been crucified and his body burned to ash. At best, he's insane. Nobody will listen to him."

"But people are listening to him," Abel said, "and other religious leaders are starting to be concerned with the crowds he is drawing. Concerned ourselves, when we looked into this matter we discovered who released him and were forced to summon you."

Cain said nothing, his face still a proud mask as he stared impassively at Abel.

Leaning forward, Abel said, "You were elected to this council by popular vote, Cain, some years ago when Councilman Yvell fell ill and passed away of old age. In your time you have served as a representative for the moral community of our population- specifically the religious sector. In your service, however, you have seemed to forget the fact that as an elected body, the quorum operates on a system of elections and votes."

"Make your point." Cain toned.

Bethel raised her nose up as she said beside him, "The council rules as equals, Cain. You can't order around anyone you like just because you claim to speak for Sajuuk."

Abel leaned forward to interrupt before Cain could explode in an objection. "No one council member can overrule a decision voted upon as a whole. You yourself supported the edict to medically imprison this boy- there are three witnesses to this!"

Abel leaned backward into his chair. "Several members of the council have forwarded a motion to suspend you, for this act and your behavior on the day of our departure from the trail of tears. There are also many other motions put against you that we have overlooked up until this point. The matter has been put to a vote, and we have decided to discharge you from the council."

Cain stood, furious, "This is an outrage! The _people_ elected me as replacement! Not your council! If the people elected me to this post, then only the people can remove me!"

"You are not being exiled," Abel said, "No are you being removed from your leadership position in the church! But as the times are changing and our world is changing with it, we cannot allow our leaders to act outside of interests of the majority. Besides, this is the law written in the council that you agreed to when you accepted the position you held! You were not shy, after all, in using the rule of law to punish Tamuur for his transgressions."

"A deed still unpunished." Cain said, and thrust an angry finger at Abel, "As you bend the rules to suit your liking! Go ahead, remove me from leadership. It changes nothing- this council is a sham, polluting the will of Sajuuk with earthly concerns. You have forgotten the lessons of the burning in your hubris!"

Siress Bethel laughed as she looked at Abel, "He sounds just like that heretic."

Cain's face paled as his jaw worked to find words.

Abel spoke again. "Your duties on the council have been suspended, immediately. While you still retain your position at the shrine and are no way under house arrest, you may no longer participate in council sessions, nor may you again influence the decision of the council or council activities in any official manner."

Bracing himself inwardly, Abel asked, "Have you any final, formal statement you wish to make?"

Cain stared death at Abel, anger in his eyes and in his red face. He turned and stormed from the tent, his foot-falls heavy and loud as he went back to the chapel.

"Well," Bethel said, "I suppose we can expect some fire and brimstone sermons from the clergy for a while. We'd best prepare for the outrage that is going to follow his ousting."

Abel shook his head, "The other priests are much more reasonable about this. They have been telling me for a long time that Cain's appointment to the council was… problematic."

The other councilman, Jussel, had been silent until now. Leaning forward he asked, "Councilman Abel, shouldn't we detain the young man Cain set free? If he is a danger-"

"It had occurred to me," Said Abel and shook his head, "He doesn't seem to be harming anyone, and we have no laws in our society to restrict someone from speaking what they wish. Watch him for a few days… then we shall put the matter up for a discretionary vote in the council."

* * *

As the Captain returned to the city with his woman, he was greeted warmly by passers by.

"Tamuur!" One woman called from her tent as they passed, "Do you still take service requests, or are you a full time captain now?"

"I'll have to check my schedule!" Tamuur called back with a smile. Miriam grinned with him as the pair of them walked down one of the city's wide avenues.

There was a small crowd approaching from the opposite direction. Tamuur noticed and winced as he tried to make out what going on. He slowed and stopped when he identified the figure at its head. Miriam, too, slowed down beside him.

"It's him..." Tamuur uttered with dread.

The figure spotted them. Wide-eyed, he broke into a run.

There was confusion on the streets as the madman with the heavy book ran for the Captain and his woman. Out of reflex Tamuur stepped ahead to protect Miriam.

The man ducked around Tamuur easily and collided with Miriam. The woman was too stunned to think, recognizing the man in spite of the beard he had grown. His incoherent speech of Silas didn't make any sense to either of them.

Tamuur hesitated for a moment's confusion when Silas wasn't behaving as expected. Finally getting a hold of his senses he reached forward to put a hand firmly on the man's shoulder. "Silas." He uttered.

Silas lifted his head from Miriam's shoulder to stare at Tamuur with a wide-eyed look of unfamiliarity. The man's severe stare was enough to make Tamuur recoil a little from the intensity.

Miriam finally collected her wits and pushed against Silas. Silas's wide eyes moved to look at her as she backed away.

For a moment Tamuur wondered if Silas was still under the assumption that he was still an item with her. It would have been a normal reaction from anyone, but seeing this display- and remembering what happened before- Tamuur couldn't even imagine what Silas was thinking now. It unsettled him.

Silas's wide eyes blinked slowly as if he were taking time to process his next thought. Then, suddenly, his expression changed as if a switch had been thrown. "Miriam," He said with a voice full of compassion, "it's been a long time…I missed you."

Miriam laughed nervously and stepped closer to Tamuur. Silas was supposed to be dead. She had asked about him after the day he vanished. She had even, on her own, explored to find him in some of their usual hideouts from when they were kids. When there was no trace of him after some time, she comforted herself with the possibility that perhaps he had moved on to take his own life. It helped her deal with a problem she didn not know how to solve.

Now he was alive, and he had become her worst fear.

"Maybe we should get together again and talk," He said to her, oblivious to her body language, "When I'm... not busy." He said.

"Yes," Miriam said, nodding. She took Tamuur's hand.

Silas saw this, his big blue eyes jumping down to thier hands before returning to her face. Smiling again he said, "Later perhaps… tomorrow?"

Miriam was about to speak when Tamuur interrupted, "We'll be pretty busy moving into our new quarters tomorrow Silas."

The prophet once again looked at Tamuur as if he had walked onto the ship from space. Tamuur stared back.

The group that had been following Silas now gathered behind him. Silas, noticing them with a turn of his head, smiled warmly and looked back at Miriam. He then gave a tremendous bow to her, and said, "Kadesh… welcome."

Miriam looked from Silas to the audience behind him. Many of them were confused, but for some a look of revelation had crossed their faces. They turned to one another to whisper things she could not hear. She didn't like the kind of attention she was suddenly getting from these people.

Tamuur could detect her discomfort and was growing impatient with this display and the awkwardness that was growing around them. He too, had comforted himself with Silas being dead, blaming the man's current state on choices Tamuur had warned him about long ago. He couldn't help a friend that refused to listen. He tugged on Miriam's hand as he said, "We must go. Silas..." The other man didn't move from his bow at all while Tamuur spoke, and didn't react to Tamuur's attempt to reach him. Reconsidering his words, Tamuur gave what he could. "Please take care of yourself."

Silas said nothing as he remained bowed over, a wide grin on his face as his eyes stared into nothing.

The Awkwardness was too much for both of them. After exchanging glances and looking back at the crowd, Tamuur and Miriam turned and walked the way they came.

"Behold the beauty of Kadesh," Silas's voice called from behind them as they left, "Our savior from the wretched darkness of the black! Our goddess imbued…"

Tamuur didn't care to hear the rest. He and Miriam were well out of earshot by the time Silas started to actually make any kind of sense.

* * *

They had retreated to Miriam's tent, which was closer to the bridge access. Once inside the enclosure Miriam threw her arms around Tamuur and started to cry softly. Tamuur only stared into space, thinking over what Silas' appearance was going to mean for the two of them going forward. He slowly rubbed her back, as he normally did in times of trouble like this.

"He's…" she sobbed, "He's…."

Tamuur didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry…" She breathed, "I just… He was so bright before and now...!"

Tamuur only nodded against her head. How had Silas gotten free? When he had heard of the boy's disappearance, Tamuur had been too busy trying to coach a new crew and train them on helping him run the ship. Only once had he pursued some inquiry into Silas' whereabouts, venturing once again through the ducts back up to deck 1. The medical lab there looked untouched since Tamuur had gone up there last. To make sure that nobody returned to that place, he had found and placed a padlock on the cabinet Silas forced open to get his medicine. The lock was still in Tamuur's room. Obviously that hadn't stopped Silas from breaking and entering.

But what to do with him now?

"Hello?"

Both parted and looked at the door to the tent. "Who is it?" Tamuur asked.

"Courier of the council. Are you available Captain?"

Tamuur looked down at Miriam's tear-soaked face. Perhaps the council wanted to talk about this recent 'development'. "Enter."

The courier entered and made a small bow. "Sir," he said, "I was dispatched to find you. The council requests an informal meeting with you at your discretion. Councilman Abel wishes to see you."  
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"Tell him I'll be there at once." Tamuur said. The courier departed, and Tamuur turned to Miriam. She looked into his eyes, before the two of them together departed for the council chambers.

They both had questions to ask of their leaders.

* * *

Cain was particularly vengeful when he took to the podium next. The sermon at the day's end was of the kind that inspired visions of fiery hell and damnation. He went into vivid depictions of the fate of the wicked and the sinning- that their souls had no hope for salvation when Sajuuk dipped his ladle into the stars and drew up the spirits of the worthy. Instead, they would be spilled into the void to the place where all other-worldly interplanetary souls went. They would join with all the ill-formed, subhuman, monsters of the universe. There, the sinners would spend countless eternity with thee daemons and devils of the dark spaces between the stars. They would become playthings of Khelan-Jaat and other unspeakable masters of pain and torment.

Cain continued with descriptions of the kind of things these deities of evil went on to perform in the well- causing some of the audience to cry. Such was the ferocity of his sermon that some bystanders reaffirmed on the spot, just to save their souls from the torment Cain outlined in his sermon.

Councilman Abel, after hearing what occurred at the shrine, councilman Abel simply said, "Cain is a very effective ambassador of his religion."

Miriam and Tamuur arrived then at the informal council meeting, located in one of the three eating courts set up around the village. Given the constraints of individual housing, eating, bathing, and waste were all located in communal facilities within the village. Here, in "The Open Sky" food bazaar, the council was commonly seen partaking in informal sessions like these. Meeting openly with constituents was one way to stay connected with community as well as discuss items of the day leading up to formal sessions. Cain never once attended one of these meetings in his entire duration as a councilman.

The courier gestured to the table occupied by three councilmen, before bowing and dismissing himself. After exchanging introductions Miriam took the seat Tamuur pulled out for her, but Tamuur spoke before taking one of his own. "Sir, before we begin, there is something we need to address."

"State your case young man" Abel replied.

"Silas." Tamuur answered, "He was supposed to be detained in medical care and released only when he showed signs of being well. The man we saw today was not well."

Abel raised a hand, "His release was not condoned by the council."

Tamuur shook his head once and said, "You have to return him to quarantine at once." Tamuur narrowed his eyes, "Why was he released in the first place?"

Councilman Bayer, one of the three present, swirled a drink in hand while he languished in one of the chairs. He jerked one of his hands dismissively as he said, "The man hasn't done any harm, has he?" Bayer sipped, then gestured at the open chair Tamuur was standing behind, prompting him to sit. "We've discussed this before, Tamuur, we don't think-"

"Please," Miriam spoke, "It's for his own good… he isn't in his right mind…."

Lady Miriam, "Abel said, "All things have been considered. If we imprison Silas now, especially after ousting Cain as punishment for releasing Silas, the council may be viewed as being close-minded to outside beliefs. We have to be cautious in this time of change and move slowly."

Miriam's eyes widened a little and she looked to Tamuur. The Captain's hands remained on the back of the chair he was standing behind. "I want to know the reason why Cain released in the first place. And why the council didn't know about it until only this past week!" Tamuur rounded the chair now to sit in it as he went on, "Silas was deemed a danger to others and himself. It seems suspicious to me that he was allowed to go free without medical approval."

"Some accept the word of the council without question." Abel said, "But we cannot count on that if we are to pretend we are ruling fairly. Besides, we did not come here to discuss any one particular citizen but yourself."

Tamuur's eyes focused sharply on Abel. He raised his head a little, "What about me, councilman?"

Abel nodded. "With Cain's discharge from the council we are short a member. We have discussed it among ourselves and decided to elect you to replace him. It makes logical sense to us, considering you are now the captain of this vessel and have some command of authority over its fate. We feel we should add your voice to ours in matters of the ship's disposition."

Tamuur nodded slowly. "Your reasoning is sound, but wouldn't you be agitating the population by electing someone so controversial to the council? Cain still doesn't like me- I think if it were up to him I'd be put to death still for disrupting the status quo."

"That may be," Abel said, "But we cannot let your accomplishments go without recognition any longer. You have been a valuable member of this community for a long time, and your deed to put us on this path for self-determination is without equal in accomplishment. We of the council, and the people at large, are with you in support. It is only fitting to make you one of the body of leaders to help guide he fate of our people.

"Besides," Able went on, relaxing in his seat, "We are not getting any younger. Very few of you young people have expressed an interest in leadership. If we do not admit a new generation of leaders, we are doomed to chaos. We are entrusting you as one of our successors to lead this ship."

Tamuur was lost in thought as he considered inwardly the power, and obligations, he would gain by doing this. He wouldn't have the freedom to come and go and tinker as he wished- he would need to be an example to others as part of the council. He would also become an object of disdain should the population turn against their leadership.

On the other hand being on the council means he could get the resources he needed to better their position much easier. He would have the ultimate authority onboard to do what he needed and must to save the people. And he would be in a better position to do something about Silas.

His last judgement call was to look to Miriam.

She was looking back at him with the same hesitation that must have been on his face. But this alone was enough to convince him to accept: for he could protect her better in his newfound position.

"I accept." Tamuur replied.

Heads of the elders nodded around the table. "Good," Abel said, "We will begin the voting tomorrow to finalize your appointment. I don't think you'll be disappointed."

Tamuur only nodded. There were few downsides to this, since he was already widely accepted within the ship and this advancement would only be a matter of course by electing the most capable man among them.

But, it wouldn't be worth it if Silas was still allowed to roam free. He may be benign now with his ramblings, but Tamuur was wary of superstition. Shadows and myth had kept his people in ignorance about the workings of their world, had it not been for his curiosity he too probably would have been condemned with the rest of his people. Who knew what mysticism and tradition would result from Silas' words?

Moreover, what would they do to Miriam? The look on that crowd was not promising.

* * *

The next day the ballot was cast among the people. Even early on, two-thirds of the population supported elevating Tamuur to a place of prominence. Cain was more and more furious by the hour, ranting as much as he cloistered himself in the temple of Sajuuk. His fury drove even the other priests away, as Cain pressed them on their devotion and piety in the years previous. How could they stand with this blasphemer and still proclaim themselves to be holy?

Many guessed the sermon that evening would be attacking Tamuur, the heretic, directly.

But as the day went on, more and more people people voiced their approval in their choice. No other man had worked as hard in this community or shown such tastes for seeking answers to the questions he raised. Tamuur had delivered and benefited this community ever since he was young- it was only right to vote for him in the same way they voted for his life after delivering the ship into salvation.

…But there was another discussion being whispered between the people on that day.

"None is worthy of beholding Kadesh's beauty, her touch! None is worthy of her attention, save for the devout!"

This caused Silas' audience to back some at his ferocity and mad gesturing. Silas had looked up, spread his hands, and made his proclamation opposite of the sermon going on right then in Sajuuk's temple. More had come to him today, probably (as some spectators guessed), to avoid Cain's hellfire and brimstone sermon about death and how they were all being denied the bliss of Sajuuk's well.

Silas continued his sermon of the Goddess Kadesh, the great protector and saver, while he paced before the streaming statue at the center of the forum. "She has cast her hand of fate into the void, taking hold of our destiny by bringing to us the physical manifestation of her beauty. Through the eyes of her avatar," He then went softer, "she taught me wisdom… and what I need to know… to be her disciple …"

Silas suddenly fell silent, his head raised as his eyes stared into nothing. His audience, hanging on his word, started to look at one another in confusion as the moments drifted by. Suddenly he startled them all by shouting, "Those who understand the compassion and joy of Kadesh's mercy are free and welcome to join! Those who do not, and mock Kadesh, will be removed from the garden at once!"

Angrily he closed his book and slammed it against the statue. The new binding held at least, but the book fell to the ground and several pages spilled out. Angrily, it seemed, Silas stormed off to a distant doorway at the front of the ship and left his book behind.

The audience looked at one another in confusion until someone stood up and walked forward to pick up the book and the pages. Opening them, the woman stuffed the pages into the book again before looking up and starting to follow Silas. Several others, through argument with their fellows or their own initiative, also followed. Eventually, they all went to the forward part of the ship.

They came to the door that started the entire journey. All of them hesitated at this forbidden doorway, for according to the old laws, passage into here was to mean death. Some of them stopped and turned back, judging the man to be crazy.

But someone said among them that Tamuur, the tinkerer, won their freedom by venturing into such a forbidden area on an errand to save their people. The religion of Sajuuk had grown harsh and cold, might not this be the way to salvation?

With that thought, they all passed through the doorway into a room three young children once called The Seeing Room.

Silas had seated himself in one of the large windows, his silhouette was a visible, stark contrast against the hazy pink and red of the nebula the people were calling their salvation.

"You've come." Silas said in the darkness, his voice betraying a pleasing tone though none of them could see his face in the darkness. His head lowered a little and his tone darkened, "If you have come to join, I welcome you. Those who cling to mortal law, or do not believe in Her Benevolence, are not worthy to pass."

He jumped down from the window and moved to an open grate. The ventilation shaft had been big enough for a couple of children to find their way to a new world, it would be another test for the faithful. "Follow, and I will open your eyes." Silas then turned and started climbing through the duct way.

All of them followed.

* * *

Miriam finished slipping the last of her knitting things into the bag. She cast one last look around what used to be her dwelling, before she turned to face Tamuur. "I know you'll be finally able to do something more about where we are." She said.

Tamuur nodded as he held some of her things. For a moment, they only looked into each other's eyes.

"I won't miss my dwelling," Tamuur finally replied, lifting one of her bags to get a better grip on it, "Never liked the tent. Too small."

Miriam breathed a laugh and the pair of them emerged from the tent. Heads turned, passing congratulations, as the pair continued for the back of the ship.

"So," She said, "What's the first thing you think you're going to do?"

"Start thinking of a plan to move forward." Replied Tamuur and took a breath to launch into a further explanation, "We have the power of the hyperspace core to send us to faraway planets, but we don't know what's out there. There could be others like us who surely travel in ships like our own. But how can we know if they will help us, or destroy us? I need to figure out a plan to answer that question before I bring it to the council with a solution."

Miriam contemplated his plan and nodded as he explained it. After a moment, she said, "What happens if nobody is willing to help us?"

Tamuur had his own moment of thought before he answered with a tinge of bitterness, "Then we find a way to help ourselves. There are weapons onboard, we'll learn how to use them. Maybe in time we'll create other ships to make sure nobody can tell us what to do ever again."

"Build warships? How?" Asked Miriam, "With what?"

"Not ourselves, I've looked into it already," Tamuur replied, "But maybe we can find someone, or something, willing to help us do that." He stared into space as he said, "We've been victims for far too long already."

When they reached Tamuur's room, Miriam set her things down before deciding to sit on the bed they had moved into the room earlier. Tamuur remained standing, walking to the room's closet and opening it to see if there was room.

Miriam had to think a moment before she decided to commit to what she wanted to say. "Tamuur." Her tone caught his attention and he looked to her from where he stood by the closet. She adjusted her seat on the bed to face him, took a breath, and said, "Silas' religion frightened me. Did you see the way they looked at me?"

"I did." Tamuur replied, finding some comfort that Miriam was sharing his concern. He faced her, "If you like, you can stay here while I get the rest of my things."

"That's no fair, you helped me with mine." She said and shook her head to think for another moment before she said, "They were revering me, Tamuur. Especially Silas… who is this goddess he's talking about?"

"I don't know." Tamuur said with a shrug as he shook his head. He didn't like thinking about Silas' vision… or the growing self-blame for allowing Silas to accompany him that day long ago. Shaking his head once more he said, "There was some drawing he made once, of a woman. It looked like you. Maybe he's confused his memories of you with whatever fever-dream he's trapped within?"

Miriam looked away. "It would be one thing if it's just him, but, he's getting others in on this. I don't want to be some kind of godhead, Tamuur."

Tamuur came forward and sat on the bed beside her. He took her in his arms, saying, "I'm not going to serve on the council unless I can do something about Silas."

"But you heard what-"

"I know," Tamuur replied, "And I don't care if I get discharged for it. If for no other reason, you are in danger. And if my responsibility is to all people of this ship, that includes you. If he won't accept that you can't be some goddess for him, then we're going to have to deal with him. "

* * *

"This will let us see her?" Asked one of the youth.

Silas nodded energetically.

Fifteen had decided to come to this holy place. Fifteen were now holding the sacred medicines that had once, long ago, given Silas the vision of Kadesh.

The fifteen swallowed the pills, pleasing Silas eagerly. All he needed to do was wait… and more could be granted the glorious vision of Kadesh in her ethereal form.


	7. 1:6 Defiled

**1:6 Defiled**

As big of a ship as it was, the Araraht-Nahb was almost a speck inside the greatness of the nebula. It hadn't surprised Tamuur at all that they had wandered for so long without encountering another ship. After three months of joining the council, that day finally came.

Lights were spotted some weeks ago from one of the window watch ports Tamuur had established. Tamuur ordered the ship in the direction of these lights. Ancient sensors of the cargo ship had confirmed what he had suspected; it was another vessel. There may have been many other ships passing around them, but either the nebula was too powerful or the ancient ship's sensors were not good enough to detect them. The lookouts, thus, were necessary to make sure space around the Aaraht-Nahb was secure.

He didn't want to break the news to the populace just yet, but he believed that he may have no choice. The bridge crew were likely to tell their loved ones about it when the shift traded, and from there word would filter to the council, and eventually to the religious sectors. And to Silas.

Seated in the center chair, Tamuur grunted angrily at the memory. In spite of being a council member he could not find the support to detain Silas and his growing followers. They were not harming anyone, and in the very least what Silas had to say was the most interesting worldview to reach the people in nearly a century. Tamuur couldn't find any support among the devout of Sajuuk either. The polite ones would tell him all worldviews must be embraced, and the ill-considerate ones told him, "If you are allowed to go free, then so should he."

Tamuur would have agreed to this proposal if so much wasn't at stake. Though he trained his crew well, nobody displayed the same mechanical aptitude he did with the machines of this world. It was diversion to many. He had nobody to pass the mantle to, yet.

Tamuur also couldn't rely on medical testimony to send Silas back to confinement as the healer who diagnosed him had passed away some years before. With the record being a matter of memory in such a scarce environment, there was no medical evidence to keep him confined. The details of the incident had been forgotten. Silas' word was just as good as that of Miriam and Tamuur, who were the only people to remember the original incident that day long ago on deck 1.

Yet Silas' cult contained to grow by the week. Now there was a proposal being floated before the council to legitimize this religion, as thirteen members of the so-called "protectors of Kadesh" were practicing their faith openly, much to the displeasure of the devout of Sajuuk. If Tamuur wasn't careful in this, he could have a religious war breaking out between two factions he wanted neither part of.

"Sir, there." The man on sensors said, interrupting his thoughts.

Tamuur raised his head. He pulled a pair of binoculars he had strapped to his command chair for this purpose and peered through them. The array of rectangular lights was unquestionably artificial. He had spent some time memorizing ship silhouettes from the ancient documents that were left on board- this ship matched none of them. The ship's computer couldn't identify what this other vessel was, either.

Tamuur could tell it was a freighter though, since it shared characteristics with many other freighters he had read about. Long cargo modules, no obvious weaponry, a small command cabin, and a decently sized engine bank. This craft was like their own, a bulk transport, slow moving and ponderous.

Tamuur got up from his seat, "Match course and speed, but be casual about it. Don't come on strongly to alarm them." He started for the exit from the bridge. Council needed to be called.

* * *

It took only moments for the emergency meeting to be summoned. They met in the ship's officer's quarters now, suitably refurbished and repaired. It was a discreet place for them all to meet without being in the council chambers or within earshot of any troublemakers.

"Another ship?" Asked Bethel. Abel was absent due to an illness.

Tamuur nodded and said, "We can try contacting them."

"Certainly not," Growled Nials, "What do we know about these people? Are they servants of our ancient enemies?"

"You're being paranoid Nials." Bethel said.

"I'm being safe." Nials answered.

Bayer waved a hand, "You're sure this thing is a civilian ship? Not a military one waiting in ambush?"

"I am certain this is a harmless civilian ship," Tamuur said, "Without any doubts."

"How can you be so sure," Nials said, "If they are as tricky and deceitful as legends say?"

"You're sounding like one of those upstart cultists," Bethel said, then turned to Tamuur, "Tamuur, you are not only a councilman but acting captain of the ship. Do what you feel is best for the whole of the people. You have our support in this matter."

Tamuur looked about the council to assess the truth of the statement. Many of the faces were sympathetic, but three he couldn't be sure on a few. Nials was one of them.

"All right," Tamuur said, "We will make contact. Break the news to the people, but gently. I suspect everyone already knows, but let's be formal about this at least."

* * *

"A ship?" The prophet's voice said.

"Yes," One of his bowed acolytes said, "A ship. Another vessel."

Rising, Silas stood. His eyes were staring off into the wild, as if reading the air for instructions. Not looking down, he said to his disciple, "Send for the others. We must save the people."

The acolyte turned and left. Silas stepped down from his chair in what used to be the ancient medical ward on deck 01. In the past couple of months, it had been turned, once again, into a shrine. Things that did not serve the purpose of the acolytes had been discarded to the far side of the room, a heap of all manner of medical equipment and technology. Lights burned like candles in the artistically lit place. Even the grime seemed to fit in place like a moody, aged monastery.

He entered the special key needed to gain access to a sensitive area of the place. It used to be an operating room, but this too had been transformed. The table itself had been made into an altar, with Silas' heavy book placed upon it. Medical instruments were moved aside and transformed into holders for the various prism-lights and glass shards salvaged from across the ship. Dominating the center of the room now was a life-sized portrait of Miriam… deified by the artist.

Silas knelt before this thing to pray to Kadesh. He had long known the words of his Goddess and praised her for the gift of vision… the gift of truth. Now, it was time to repay this wonderful Goddess who had granted him so much.

* * *

Tamuur was tense on the bridge. They had just opened a hailing frequency.

The freighter ahead slowed, allowing the Araraht-Nahb to come alongside. The other ship was certainly newer- sleeker and refined with the technology the people of the Ararat-Nahb could only dream about.

"Sir," Said the boy managing communications, "They wish to open a two-way feed…."

Tamuur hesitated. He, out of all people… out of all the council… the first to contact a being outside their society in nearly five hundred years.

Taking a breath, the captain said, "Open. Feed it here."

He reached up and rubbed off the video feed. In a moment, a screen before him changed from static to a face.

A human face.

Tamuur hesitated. He was almost prepared for anything over there… anything other than human.

"This is the freighter Bashaan out of the Port of Nalthor to…uh… Araraht-Nahb. You guys in trouble over there or something?"

"I-" Tamuur said, swallowed, and started again, "I am Tamuur… captain of this…the Araraht-Nahb." The next sentence he said after a breath came out easier, as it was the truth; "We are a refugee ship of nearly a thousand people onboard. We recently broke free of our programmed course and need assistance in establishing our bearings. A… A little knowledge of the greater universe would be appreciated also."

Tamuur watched understanding blossom in the other captain, then surprise. "Majan-ahnit! The Exiles! Ujedu, close down every other channel now! Those are the Hiigarans!"

Confused looks crept into the room. Tamuur remained stern, wondering if this meant that the Bashaan-mimb had just decided to refuse the request for aid.

Instead, their captain turned and nodded. "Your people are known to us in legend. You are the exiles from Hiigara some five hundred years lost. There's… there's… " The man rubbed a hand through his long hair, then cleared it with a shake of his head. "We'll render assistance. You say you have nearly a thousand people onboard?"

"That is correct captain." Tamuur said, a figure he had come to memorize since becoming a council member.

"Damn the suns," the other captain said, "I think we will be able to render assistance. Any wounded or seriously injured?"

"No. We…" Tamuur took a breath, "We just need to find someplace to go. A home for us to settle on… something."

"I can imagine!" The other captain said, then turned, "It looks like your ship's been sealed up from the outside…. But we can still try hard docking on your closest facing. That is, if you're up for docking maneuvers," The captain finished with a smile.

Tamuur smiled back, saying, "If you can forgive me in saying I've never performed docking before…"

"That's OK. Just keep on your trajectory and we'll do the moving." The captain said, "Gonna have to get some cutters to open your doors… just tell me there aren't any booby traps down by your main cargo door."

"Any there have been diffused long ago." Tamuur replied. He added, "I look forward to meeting you in person, sir."

"The same!" The captain answered, "I've heard a lot about you Hiigarans… and the war. Long time ago, but I never….heh… sorry… See ya on the other side."

The comm. transmission ended. Tamuur exhaled all the tension from the first contact with the outside.

"Other ship is moving into a position to dock." Said the sensor officer.

Tamuur stood, saying, "Maintain course… I think we should organize a welcoming committee."

* * *

There were thirty-seven of them. In the darkness of what used to be the primary loading bay, they waited.

Their prophet was with them.

They had armed themselves with an array of tools. Sharp things, things of violence. The instruments of the devout needed to protect their charges from the reaches of the unworthy, the unclean.

Silas waited with eager eyes, muttering to his followers, "This… is the garden… of Kadesh…"

* * *

"Me?" Miriam asked as she walked beside Tamuur. With the council behind them, Miriam shook her head, "Tamuur…"

"I'm serious," Tamuur replied, "You're wonderful and understanding with people. I couldn't think of a better person to be with me when we start some kind of formal negotiations."

She smiled.

The procession made it down to the mid-level of the ship. The rolling cargo door was there, long sealed in ancient times. The only things in the bay were a couple of ancient and rusted cargo load-lifters that were long disused.

The door was already open. Tamuur expected as much.

What nobody expected were the bodies.

Miriam immediately recoiled on seeing them, right into Tamuur. He took her as some of the council, shocked, just took in the scene in absolute horror.

Bodies of men, badly bludgeoned or cut. Beyond them, crates of medical supplies, food, and other assorted goods had been stacked.

Miriam said a name. Tamuur, now impressed with a horrible notion, rushed forward into the alien ship to stop the violence. The council, looking between them, wondered what to do.

Miriam followed Tamuur.

* * *

Tamuur arrived too late. Rushing into the bridge, he came in to the rounded room to see Silas, naked from the waist up, standing with a bludgeon over the body of the captain Tamuur himself had been speaking to only moments earlier. Seeing this, Tamuur's heart fell.

Then anger rose again as he realized who had caused this abomination.

Silas should be put to death for this outrage.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Demanded Tamuur, stepping inside with a voice thunderous and high.

Silas whirled, bludgeon in hand, and stared wide-eyed at Tamuur. The others, finished with their work, also turned to look up at the intruder to their ritual.

"What have you done!?" Tamuur raged, "These people opened their arms to help us!"

"They violated the garden!" Someone replied.

Tamuur stared at the circle to find the offending voice, ready to throttle the speaker to vent his frustrations with Silas' cult upon him. Not finding it, he returned his gaze to Silas, who was now facing him with his bloody weapon lowered.

"Silas," Tamuur said trying to contain his anger, "On the order of the council, you are under arrest for treason and crimes against the people."

Silas just started to laugh. His followers laughed with him. Tamuur held his ground.

Recomposed, Silas said, "With what force, Tamuur? The only law I listen to is that of the Garden… her will. Not yours, nothing of the material, anymore."

Tamuur, sternly, answered, "Your Goddess commands murder?"

Silas, suddenly furious, commanded, "My Goddess commands death on all those who stand in my way!"

Raising his bludgeon, he rushed for Tamuur. It was with such speed and tenacity that his followers were stunned.

Tamuur dodged the swing, but just barely. Though he was taller and thicker than Silas, he at least still had some of his youthful agility. He caught the weapon in mid-swing, but took the punch of Silas' fist to the face and doubled over. His hold on Silas's fist released.

As the fanatic brought his weapon to smash into Tamuur's neck, the only voice that could stop him shouted his name down the corridor. Silas froze, turning his head to look down the hall just outside the bridge door.

It was Miriam. She stood with a horrified look on her face, staring directly at Silas.

Silas, now wide-eyed, let his weapon drop and parted his arms to embrace Miriam, stepping forward slowly. Painting she waited unilt he was in arm's reach before she shoved him away, hard,before the prophet could close his bloody hands around her. The effect on Silas was more than any physical harm could produce.

She went to the slowly rising Tamuur, her hands coming to his shoulders. Wordlessly she helped him, guiding him slowly through the hall bloodied by combat. A handkerchief of hers went to Tamuur's face to staunch the bleeding nose.

Slowly the disciples came out of the bloodied bridge, looking at their leader with blank confusion on their face. The drug was still present in their system… they were waiting for their prophet to respond.

Silas didn't say anything.

* * *

The entire crew of the Bashaan-mimb, all one hundred and twenty, had been massacred by only a handful of religious fanatics. Many in the ship didn't know how to take the news.

The law keepers of the populace were swift in carrying out Tamuur's edict. After relaying it to the stunned council in the loading bay, the act was carried out. Armed with weapons even more refined than anything Silas or his fanatics could imagine, they herded the cultists through the ship and brought them to the ship's de-facto prison. Cargo containers once used for holding livestock, long ago, on the lower levels, now held the murderous fanatics. Their punishment would be decided in due time.

As for the Bashaan-Mimb… no decision had been made yet. The ship was still docked alongside. At least the bodies had been cleared- compassionate volunteers had gone aboard to do the deed. When Cain refused to hold ceremony, a volunteer did this also, and they were consecrated with a Hiigaran funeral.

Tamuur was in his room with Miriam tending to him. He didn't say anything at first, just accepted her hands touching him to bandage his wounds. One of them pressed a bandage to the bridge of his nose, the other gently caressing the back of his head with her fingernails. She wasn't smiling, either.

Both of them knew what needed to be done, and Tamuur knew who to blame. He couldn't bring justice against Cain though, the damage was done. There was no bringing back the dead that Silas and his cult had murdered even if they and Cain were all made to punish for the result.

"Is it ethical," Tamuur asked at last, "To take what they would have offered for us?"

"I don't know." Miriam replied.

The supplies just inside the freighter's entry were fresh. It was obvious that the generous captain of the Bashaan-mimb would have given them to the exiles out of sympathy. The taste was sour in his mouth when the opportunity to take the entire ship's stock was in his mind. It was a freighter, full of things they could use. Weapons, clothing, munitions, foodstuffs… it was a ship that had seen port far sooner than their own vessel ever could ever have. Also on board that ship was information and knowledge that Tamuur could have easily wished to posses. It was in his power.

But it made him uncomfortable when he compared it to tomb robbing. But would they waste the gifts and things that the crew of the Bashaan-mimb no longer needed? Or would it be better to starve his people out of penitence for the massacre.

He knew the purpose of a freighter. They were headed somewhere, and whoever it was on the other end of this shipment would want their cargo. Since the ship wasn't automated, it needed course changes and adjustments. It had to be manned to reach its destination. Unfortunately, with the crew dead, nobody save Tamuur could hope to understand it's full workings, let alone crew the ship entirely.

Sighing against the bandages, Tamuur knew he had to bring this decision to the council. It was no longer possible for him to decide on his own moral grounds. Besides, it was for the benefit of the people.

Tamuur's hand found Miriam's arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"you stopped him. Only you could." Tamuur uttered.

"I could not let them hurt you." She answered.

In his mind, Tamuur remembered his plan for marrying her. It was a certainty now, Miriam was the woman he wanted to have sire his children and stand beside him for the years to come, and beyond.

The storm clouds had to clear first.

* * *

Many eyes watched out of the side of the ship as the freighter pulled away from the side of the Araraht-Nahb. Lifeless and un-powered, the Bashaan-Mimb started to drift out of sight. She tilted and turned, before she vanished completely in the all-encompassing pink mist.

On the bridge the ship's sensors tracked the lifeless hull of the freighter. Before long she disappeared in the backwash of energy that confounded all of the ship's sensors. The Exiles were alone once again.

The supplies taken from the Bashaan-Mimb were stocked in the hold now, in the storage areas behind the main hold where the community dwelt. The council decided to accept the gifts of the aliens in the spirit that they were given. One other batch of cargo had been brought aboard, under lock and key, and secured in the bridge.

The Bashaan-Mimb had a stockpile of weapons to protect the crew. The fanatics had been too fast for the original crew to use them, but Tamuur was determined to prepare his people in the best way he could, which meant this gift least the tables be turned in the next encounter. Now that they had returned to the galactic scope, Tamuur realized that there may be others who would wish to plunder the Araraht-Nahb as ferociously as their fanatics had done to the Bashaan-Mimb. It was far wiser to arm themselves in case that ever came to pass.

Tamuur, however, took precautions to prevent any similar batch of fanatics from claiming these firearms. The weapons would be locked near the bridge, in the empty lockers originally intended for this very same purpose. Keys were found, and only Tamuur and several council members had them. The only significant risk Tamuur could think of now was if, somehow, Silas had released himself and his followers from confinement, attacked a council member for the keys, and proceeded to arm themselves.

The possibility seemed remote, but Tamuur had been trusting of circumstances for the last time.

He was presently in the room he shared with Miriam, poised over the desk lit by a desk lamp he salvaged from Engineering. The books of his grandfather were stacked on one side of the shelf, but one of them was open to a page on fighter craft design. The small model he made years ago was also on the desk, mounted now, and serving as a kind of inspiration for the drawings he was making on sheets of paper liberated from the Bashaan-Mimb. Tamuur grunted in dismay at the fact that he would have to wait a little longer for these things to be realized.

He remained seated as Miriam came into the room. With recent events Tamuur had installed a lock on the door to their quarters and only the two of them knew the combination. She closed the door behind her and crossed to Tamuur. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," He replied, referring to the nose Silas gleefully smashed only days ago, "The bleeding's stopped at least… and my headache's subsided."

Smiling, Miriam crossed to the back of the chair he was seated in and rubbed the man's back. Tamuur sighed in relief as she did.

"If we ever come across another ship," Tamuur said, eyes closed as she rubbed, "Silas should be nowhere near it. Contact should be explicitly between myself, you, and the council. We stay in the docking lock with armed guards to prevent anyone from coming in or going out of the ship."

Miriam chuckled softly, then said, "You don't want to take a time to hand-pick your representatives?"

"We are the representatives." Tamuur replied, "Even me. Remember, I was elected to position despite what Cain or any other religious fanatic might think."

"Yes," Miriam replied, smiling.

Tamuur shook his head slowly. "Religion on board is going to be a problem. I think I'm the only leader who has that mindset" He put an elbow on the desk to lean against it. Miriam continued to rub. Tamuur sighed and said, "Before this fanatics were just… angry, but kept to themselves. Or they were adorably devout. And they were happy just speaking in the shrine. Now we have fanatics like Cain, trying to undermine the entire social structure of our people… or Silas, who madly believes in some sort of deity he thinks is you."

Miriam's hands stopped rubbing. Tamuur raised his head and turned it to look over his shoulder at her. Her eyes were looking into the air, away from him.

Tamuur reached around and put one of his hands on hers. "He's crossed a line this time," He said, "The boy you and I knew is gone."

"It's not that." Miriam replied, "I… I made my peace on that long ago. I'm just sad I have to be reminded every day now, that he used to be so much brighter and spiritual."

Tamuur disagreed, but he didn't want to say that to her. Looking back ahead he remembered Silas as a different person… someone just as driven, he supposed, as Tamuur was. The only difference in that regard was that Silas' path lead to madness. Tamuur's lead to results. Sighing again Tamuur closed his fists and landed them on the desk. Silas couldn't be allowed to continue.


	8. 1:7 The Ship

**1:7 The ship**

By looking at him you couldn't believe Silas was a murderous fanatic. He was nearly comatose in the container, staring at the wall without moving.

Cain wasn't moved to sympathy at all as he stared through the thick glass at the young man. This boy alone had caused much, much trouble for the people of the ship. His blasphemous teachings may have already imperiled not only the word of Sajuuk, but also the safety of the souls of the entire ship. Sajuuk would not tolerate other gods.

But it wasn't enough to simply throw him behind bars… Cain needed to destroy this man, utterly and without mercy. This child must be made an example of what happens to blasphemers when they offend the will of Sajuuk. Cain turned away from the cell, wheels churning. If this boy could be made an example of, perhaps there would be enough pull to have other heretics removed before more damage is done.

Then he would take care of that Captain. Things were too fractured now to consider moving on both of them at once, especially since Tamuur was well respected even among some of the flock. Moving against him now would decrease the feel of Sajuuk, and His will was already imperiled enough. Let Tamuur enjoy this respite, while Cain would do a favor for the people no other man could.

* * *

For the first time in living memory the ship was quiet. The near constant thrum of the ship's fusion engines was cut back dramatically as Tamuur ordered the ship's drives to halt. It was enough that many reported feeling ill at the loss of the constantly reassuring droning.

Today, reverence was being observed, and Tamuur wanted to mark this day with the grand gesture of giving the engines rest.

The people stood around the forum for the ceremony. Those that had died in the past month were laid out to rest on the floor of the forum before the statue. Their bodies were covered in the leaves of the Halifah plant- the ceremonial greenery for this particular purpose.

Tamuur, by his own deduction, had guessed that such a plant was used to diffuse the pollutants in the atmosphere. It had become tradition it seemed, and a rather effective means of having large fires inside without the concern of the ventilation system. He said nothing now, however.

He was holding Miriam's shoulders as she cried. Her mother was one of the many laid out of the dead.

Cain declined this ceremony, as expected. He said had business elsewhere, and actually admitted that he was not the best person for this ceremony when his heart was so full of purpose. What purpose, he did not say. Instead one of the high priests was performing the ceremony. He sprinkled the liifa pedals on the bodies, stopping to spread two handfuls over the body of councilman Abel. His passing was also mourned greatly by the people's, as was as the death of Siress Bethel. The council was now short a few members.

The priest stopped lastly at Kamar. The hermit had lived to his last… and finally passed away after seeing so much. It was only now that anyone noticed his absence and brought him here to be lain to rest.

Tamuur would miss him. None of this would have been possible without his guidance.

The priest said the solemn words, and the fires were started. The populace watched on as the fire built, cremating the bodies of the dead. The loud thud and drone of the air recycles boomed overhead, as they always did, which became known to the people as 'the thunder of heaven'. The ladle had descended, cupping the spirits of the departed to take them to the Well of Sajuuk.

They all remained as the fires died, each one of them remembering the spirits and faces of the departed. Miriam rotated in Tamuur's grip to cry against his chest. Tamuur thought of Kamar, the old veteran, and the last things the warrior hermit had said to him.

You did well… we are now free…

Tamuur wondered, with the passing of elders of the council, if he could finally convince the remaining members to leave the nebula. The hyperspace module was functional- they had used it to transition from one side of the nebula to the other. All they needed to do was set coordinates and they were ready to go. Tamuur had made it a point to salvage the - Bashaan-Mim's navigational database. Destiny was in their hands…

…but Tamuur had already taken destiny by the horns by bringing them here. It had been a risky proposition… and Cain was, in part, right for his caution. After the experience with the Bashaan-Mim, there was no telling what the universe was like outside the nebula. It could be that the exiles would be recognized who they were and destroyed immediately by their aggressors. It was one possibility Tamuur hadn't considered, but evident after perusing through the Bashaan-Mim's history files. Much of it was illegible, since nobody could decipher the text used by her crew. The pictures were enough, and he immediately recognized the horned bar set in a circle as a force of great power and fear. To stave off this foe, they needed more than a simple freighter and excuse. They needed stronger defenses.

All they needed were the tools, he had the plans. He had refined them over years- ever since he made his first concept of a space fighter virtually from scratch. With it were a new combat doctrine… and a new hope out of the nebula…. someday.

But they had no way to build, only modify. This ship didn't have any kind of factory on it save the ones that recycled the air…

Once the fires died, the people helped gather the ashes and scooped them into an urn. It was carried down to the gardens with ceremony, a solemn song was chanted all the way down to the lower levels. The ashes were spread over the clean fields, the old giving to the new.

This ceremony was performed bimonthly for the dead. In this way, they still supported the living after so many generations.

* * *

It took three days for Miriam to go through grieving for her mother.

On the first day she wept, remaining in Tamuur's quarters as the captain gave her privacy by being on the bridge.

On the second day, Miriam started to organize what remained of her mother's life. Things she knew would be of use to some friends of the family she packed into old containers, labeled them, and delivered them in person to the people she felt deserving of them. Things of personal value she kept- the ancient shells of a beach long ago forgotten, a tattered shawl that supposedly traveled with the family since ancient times. A mirror of ornate construction… little things, also, that she remembered from her childhood. Some things would go to cousins, while some she kept for herself to pass on to her children. She smiled at the idea.

On the third day she went to the market to pass on the things that did not have value to her or anyone. Tamuur returned from an early watch to find a note attesting to this, and he decided to meet her within the city.

Still smiling, Tamuur set off for the market on the port side of the ship. As he ventured through town he cast his gaze around him, noting how little had changed since he first dreamed of flying this ship as a boy. The tents were still the same, maybe more patches on some, but there had been no great fire or disaster to strike the ship (not counting possibly the massive course change he himself orchestrated). Children ran by his feet, and Tamuur remembered back to a simpler time when he was a child, with Miriam and Silas, before everything changed.

He pushed the thought of Silas aside. The new council members would also have to resolve that issue. Silas, Tamuur felt, should still be put to death for the good of the colony. Far better to go to the ladle than continue his life, seemingly, insane. While Tamuur had his doubts about the usefulness of religion with all that had transpired in the past few years, he still liked to believe that Sajuuk, in his benevolence, still rescued the strayed and the lost. Silas was one of these lost souls, deserving of Sajuuk's forgiveness.

He spotted Miriam in the bazaar's crowd and smiled. The smile faded, and then he broke into a run, once he realized she had been surrounded by three people. Even from this distance, he could tell she was panicking. Clutching a prize plate she intended on delivering, the three boys were positioned perfectly to pin her against the kiosk she had just finished business with. Tamuur could hear their conversation as he closed.

"…deserving of you. After all, he hasn't even proposed marriage to you… it means he isn't serious."

"That's none of your business!" Miriam replied, "Leave me alone!"

She stepped to move away but the trio shifted to block her. The one before her said, "It's a sin to live without marriage, Miriam. Come on, surely you haven't been thinking about other people… I mean, why haven't you pressed him for marriage?"

"That's my business," Tamuur called to them now that he was in range, "Do as she says and leave her alone."

Tamuur had grown up to be tall and imposing. The three looked at Tamuur, and then at his robes of office. The three backed off without saying anything, but paced slowly backwards in the opposite direction of Tamuur's march. Miriam also took some steps in Tamuur's direction until he reached her, but his gaze was one the three.

"What are you doing still here?" he asked.

"….we wanted to show our appreciation…" Said one of the boys. Suddenly all three went on their knees and clasped their hands together. Bowing their heads, they said, "We wanted to show our gratitude… for Kadesh."

Tamuur had to suppress a shudder as he realized the cult hadn't been completely isolated. As Miriam tugged on his hand to escape this place, Tamuur glared at the boys one more time before he strode away from the youth with Miriam under his arm. How far had this thing spread? And how could Tamuur do anything about it?

* * *

Once they returned to Tamuur's quarters, he locked the door.

"I just can't take this anymore," She said, setting the plate on Tamuur's desk before moving to the bed and dropping down in it. She raised her hands to her face, "First mother's death… and now the harassment. It's getting to be too much!"

Tamuur sat down beside her and placed a hand on her leg.. Her hands left her face and grabbed at his shirt as she leaned against him and sobbed, "I don't want to be a goddess, or anything like that, I just want to be normal…. Like things were before we came here."

"No," Tamuur replied, "Before Silas went insane."

She sniffed against his shoulder. Tamuur sighed.

His hand found hers.

"Miriam," he said, "Maybe it's time we got married."

She shrieked a gasp, looking at his face. Tamuur was perplexed at her reaction, and seeing his look only made her cry more as she collapsed into him. "Now? With everything going on? You don't think we'll be mobbed by Silas' followers worshiping me as their God or something!?"

"You're exaggerating," Tamuur said.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Those men… they told me they had a message from Silas, and they kept teasing me about it. Then they said how pretty I was and why I hadn't Married Silas… they started attacking you, too. They said you weren't worthy and lack a vision. They…they said…" She broke into sobbing again and grabbed him in a hug..

Tamuur held her back, staring at the wall with his plans. The fighter was there, all ready and refined after years of consideration. The longer he stared at it, the angrier he became. Lacking vision? THIS was his vision: escape from the hell of a long, slow death on a journey to nowhere. Those cultists had no idea of the progress Tamuur had made over these years of defeating their ancient captors and bringing their people into the light of knowledge… all for what? All for some mad ramblings of a dietiy they fabricated themselves. The insult was burning hot now in Tamuur's mind.

As he grasped Miriam and pulled her tighter he vowed, if this kept up, Tamuur would make a martyr of Silas himself.

* * *

Cain stood just inside the doorway of the cell. He was in his priest robes today… he had come down here for a purpose.

"Boy," Cain addressed the crumbled form on the far side of the cell, "Do you want to be let out of here?"

Silas didn't say anything. He just remained seated at the back of the cell.

Cain huffed and turned his back, "I thought as much. In the end, your Goddess has failed you-"

"What is it you want?!" Silas demanded, now standing.

Cain, on the other side of the door, smirked as he turned to face Silas. "I want you to confess that your God is a lie, and proclaim Sajuuk as rightful lord over your soul."

"Sajuuk is a lie!" Silas pointed, "He abandoned us! Kadesh took us in!"

"So," Cain said, "You still have spirit. Good. You will need it." He motioned for the door to be closed.

Silas stared at the door, bewildered in the first time he had taken up the mantle of Kadesh.

* * *

The closed council session was held in the regular chambers. Empty seats had brought the quorum down to seven members- all deaths within the past two months of the old guard. The paranoid had suspected it was intentional violence, but Tamuur's only guess was Cain striking at the old members of the guard. But all Cain had done recently was preach at the shrine… nothing else. He didn't seem to have much of an ulterior motive…

Nothing had been accomplished since Tamuur had entered these chambers. Bickering seemed to be the only item of agenda, but for the most part the council seemed content allowing Tamuur reign over the matters of the ship. Tamuur held his silence as the remaining members of the council argued among themselves, mostly over who to elect for the remaining positions.

As accusations of favoritism were flying across the room, a courier interrupted the proceedings by opening the door. Tamuur, attentive to such things, stood from his chair. Before anyone could respond to the courier he was

"Sir," He said in the silence, "The bridge needs you. Now."

Tamuur immediately left the council chamber with his mind racing over what it could possibly be important enough to summon him from the bridge. He was prepared for an immediate emergency regarding the ship's engines when he reached the bridge. Instead if was the other possibility: Another ship had come into sensors range, and the bridge crew needed an executive decision. His second guess was correct, and as he came into the bridge Tamuur had to stop and behold the sight.

They were in a patch of nebula sparse enough to see other ships approaching clearly, and this vessel was truly a sight to behold. Hanging aside their own vessel was the curved, sleek form of a Hiigaran fleet Carrier. The two-level bulbous construction was eroded, but underneath the brown on gray and white were the lights of activity. The landing bays were active, and lights dotted the small pyramidal conning tower.

It was like it flew out of the old war books Tamuur had been obsessing about as he designed his own vessels. Now it was here, in the flesh, before his very eyes.

He looked at his officers They were looking at him, and a comm. window was open. Tamuur approached the largest screen in the room and looked at the face of the man they had been speaking to.

The man on the other end was older than Tamuur His crisp jumpsuit uniform looked fresh and new, as well as the rank pins and buttons. It was, Tamuur thought, as if this ship and crew had been transported right from the end of the Hiigaran war. He shoved this impossibility aside as he faced the screen.

"You're captain Tamuur?" Asked the face.

Tamuur just nodded and replied, "Yes… yes I am…"

* * *

After boarding the corvette sent to retrieve a diplomatic party Tamuur, Miriam, and several others of the council went aboard the mysterious carrier to greet the newcomers.

As he exited the corvette, before his very eyes, old plans of ancient space vehicles lept out at him from the faded pages of war books from the distant past. The hangar alone was fitted with what must have been relics in scheme of galactic history, but were all too reminiscent of the pride of Hiigara… before the eternal fall.

Kertaan Johe greeted them at the hanger, and suggested a tour of their vessel. Along the way he explained the story of their people.

The ship was called the Angel Moon, named for some far-off distant satellite of a world that had been reduced to myth. Their ancestors were the last survivors of the outer empire, and hid in the nebula after a fierce battle that destroyed. They had been hiding here ever since, awaiting rescue as their hyper drive module had been damaged during the attack.

Tamuur considered all the possibilities as he walked on the tour. His mind whirled with opportunity; not just for his own plans, but for the Araraht-Nahb. Everyone was well supplied here, and food didn't appear to be a problem. Most of the machines onboard, it seemed, were functional. He asked kertaan about this, as they were touring the massive manufacturing assembly in the nose of the carrier.

"The manuals left to us by our ancestors covered everything," Replied the leader, "And where they couldn't, the computers did. We've managed."

"What about the people," Miriam asked, "This ship is even smaller than ours… how do you-?"

Kertaan smirked, "Periodically, some of us decide to leave and we manufacture a ship to allow them to do so. It's kept crowding down… most of the crew nowadays wants to leave. All that's left are the traditionalists and the paranoid… and the few of us who just can't let go of an old ship like this…"

Miriam and Tamuur nodded their heads in sympathy. Tamuur then spoke, "Kertaan, your ship is like a blessing for us. We don't have any manufacturing capability on the Ararat-Nahb at all… and your ship is a virtual floating factory. If we may, can we use your facilities?"

"By all means, Captain." Replied Kertaan, "We share a same origin. Hiigara."

Miriam and Tamuur looked at one another, before Kertaan explained, "Hiigara is the name of the world which our namesake, the Angel moon, orbits. You have mentioned Hiigara to me as a destination you wanted to go, correct? They are one and the same. Your people are exiles from a world we ourselves only remember in myth. You can use our facilities without asking- after all, the military is supposed to serve civilian government… as our ancestors taught us."

* * *

Kertaan was immediately elected he council to represent the Angel Moon. Next, Tamuur made a list of equipment items, parts, and machinery the Ararat-Nahb required in order to become fully operational once more. Overnight the Ararat-Nahb cargo bay turned into a makeshift hangar, and the Angel Moon's corvettes turned into shuttle ferries. Over the next several days equipment and parts were transferred, and slowly Tamuur worked with his engineers to restore key systems.

Immediately the air filters, hydroponics, water filter, and recycling systems were all refurbished. Suddenly the air in Ararat-Nab smelled and felt a lot more clear. Next major computer components were restored, and for once the damage control panel on the old freighter was registering correctly. By the end of the third day Tamuur had surveyed the massive engines of the Ararat-Nahb and was formulating plans to repair them. Engine number two had faded out sometime in the past century, but there was no reason not to try fixing it. Nothing was beyond their reach now, with the Angel Moon nearby.

All of this didn't even come close to a special plan Tamuur was concocting.

Some things remained. The populace would remain in the main hold as they had for centuries while other stations were restored. To keep the populations stable nobody would be emigrating between the ships until major systems were repaired on the old freighter. Deck one, and other abandoned areas, remained off-limits least an accident cause more problems in the old ship. Since the medical facilities were overhauled at the end of the week, Tamuur had no thought of raiding the supplies in the decrepit Deck 1 facility.

At the end of the week, Tamuur was ready to pitch his plans to the ship's PDA. It was time for another change… one better for the people of the Ararat-Nahb.

* * *

Silas was asleep when the men came into the box and beat him up. He had no chance to defend himself in the dark as the guards beat him, tore his cloths, and bloodied him. This went on for a time Silas couldn't count, before they dragged him from the cell. His eyes were closed in pain as they ran him over the metal grating of the doorway while they dragged him by his arms. He didn't know where he was going- nor could he. A sack had been thrown over his head.

He lost all sense of time, all sense of purpose. All his mind could think of was her hand- pressed against his chest- in refusal. His mind reeled with the symbolism… what had happened? Did his protector reject him? What sin had he committed for her to reject him?

The hands dragged him up to a stand and made his hands clasp a metal bar, before they pulled the sack away from his face. He opened his eyes.

Blinding light shone down from above, and the face of people surrounded him. He couldn't discern the faces by the harshness of the light, but he knew they were people.

Looking around him, confused, he tried to find anyone he knew. Miriam… that person… his followers…somebody. There was nobody. He was alone in a sea of hostility. The unclean had found him.

A masked man approached, and it took only a second for Silas to identify him as a man of Sajuuk. He had on his belt a lathe, long held as the people's symbol of salvation. He had the gray on his white robes, signifying the neutrality of Sajuuk. With the man's stride and aura, though, Silas knew this man was hardly an avatar of that meaning.

"This," Said the man, turning his back to Silas, "Is the prophet of Kadesh. The self-proclaimed seer and voice of the supposedly real goddess inhabiting this nebula. He is here now, as you see him, in all his reverence. This is the boy I promised you all I would free from the jails, to allow himself to defend his deity… his religion… and his life."

Silas closed his eyes and bowed his head. Kadesh, they ridicule your name…

The man turned back to Silas and gestured with his hands, "Tell us, boy, the name of your deity."

Silas's head rolled with his eyes closed. He was chained to the bar now, preventing him from sitting. The man motioned to one of the guards and a whip descended on Silas's back. The prophet cried out in pain as red mixed further with his white robes.

"You will speak." The man replied, "Your audience is eager to hear you."

Silas remained silent. The whip descended again, but he only grunted.

"Speak I say." spoke the man, "Or is this all your religion is? Acceptance of punishment and ridicule- pure humility? It is difficult to accept your religion has any following at all."

There are followers… so Barabbas wasn't captured.

"Well then," Said the man, "I suppose Sajuuk will smile as we beat you senselessly to a pulp." He turned his back to Silas, "What we have before us is a heretic, a dissenter, a tempter! He would dare lead you all away from the Well to parish in the void, to join him and his ilk in eternal torment! There is no salvation for people like these, no hope. Therefore, we-"

"Kadesh," Silas said, "Will catch our fall. She will not allow us to go to the well."

Murmurs rose in the audience as the speaker turned back to Silas. He held the ladle in both hands now, staring through his ceremonial mask at the chained and flogged prophet of Kadesh.

"And who is this Kadesh, that your followers be allowed to worship her?"

"She is… she is…" Silas stammered, but then he could see, in the mist, the face. Blinking, his eyes darted around at the swirling motes in the light. The feminine figure danced in the shadows. Kadesh!

"She is beauty… and forgiveness…" Silas said in a trance as his eyes stared out into space, "She is light and goodness… she is….she is the one. She is eternal… and blesses us, our chosen children, with the gift of life. Those unworthy suffer and perish, fooling themselves into believing that Sajuuk, he who shapes what is, still watches over them."

"Sajuuk watches over us still," The speaker said, "After all, has he not delivered you into our keeping, to be punished and die? Such is the fate of heretics."

"The word will remain, as she is a living Goddess." Silas replied, "You and your own may kill me, but the word will persist as smoke does before a blade."

Murmurs rose in response to Silas' words, but the man held the ladle and silently stared through his mask at Kadesh. Silas, beaten as he was, maintained that gaze. The man gestured with the ladle, and the whip once again lashed at Silas- so hard the audience' conversations died suddenly.

Silas raised his head from where it had fallen in pain. His eyes looked out among the people. "Hear me," He said, "I have seen Kadesh… her body walks among us. She has pushed me aside, rejected me, all so that I may come here to speak with you.

"Kadesh is benevolent and forgiving. She called to us, delivering us here to her beautiful Garden, so that we may be saved and join with her in the end times. Whereas our believe in Sajuuk is maintained by lairs and the old, Kadesh is here… she is real. I have seen her with my eyes many times… written her word in many ways. She is as real to me as your brothers and sisters are to you… and I know myself to be in communion with the Goddess."

The audience's murmurs increased, and Silas shouted at the top of his voice, "And I know that all those who follow me will be forgiven of their sins, and given paradise eternal in the Gardens! Peace and safety will be yours to-"

The lashes descended, cutting the man off. Silas, collapsed, slowly brought himself to a stand as he coughed.

"Brave words, but of no substance." Replied the man, who gestured with the lathe again, "Tell me boy, if you see this Kadesh, where is she? Sajuuk watches on us from on high, yet you imply your Goddess is with you even now. Show her to us, so that we can believe at least half you claims."

Silas just broke a smile at the man, making him reel some. "Kadesh doesn't appear to the unfaithful, or the doubters, or the sinners. Kadesh does not appear on command, nor does Kadesh appear on desire. Kadesh is Kadesh… she comes only when she wishes."

"How is it that you can follow such a fickle deity?" Asked the man.

"You follow Sajuuk," Silas replied, "And none among your congregation can ever claim to have seen him. How is it you can follow a god whose power is never seen, and whose form is never discernible? We are here, in the Garden of Kadesh. Her beauty is all around us to see."

The audience broke once again into full rabble- louder than before, as doubt was raised on the last point. The masked man stared at Silas, as if ready to beat the boy with the lathe he carried.

Silas wearily raised his head, and could see in the shadows, Kadesh.

"Kadesh!" He proclaimed, "Deliver us from this evil!" Before fainting.

* * *

Far removed from the Ararat-Nahb, the production factories on the Angel Moon finally ceased.

Hanging suspended from the carrier's launch cradles was the impossibly small star fighter. It was about two-thirds the size of the ancient Hiigaran fighter aside it, pearl white, and dotted with thruster ports. Sitting by the launch gantry in his flight suit was the maker of this craft.

Tamuur stared in awe at his creation which, for years, had only existed on paper. He still couldn't believe he designed this.

He donned the helmet- a diamond-shaped mask with a single receptor at its forward face. It was an experimental design he found within his grandfather's records, intended for total information reception for craft that had no windows. The small flat screen monitor had specifications that let him see through the single eye-receptor on the face plate. When it interfaced with his fighter, he'd be able to see out of any of the receptors dotting the surface.

He climbed into the form-fitting cockpit, moving his feet and arms into the correct positions to make him sit upright in the fighter. Then he leaning forward and the cockpit module rolled with him to put him in a near-prone position within the vehicle. The ground crew took this as the sign he was ready and secured the hatch over him. Two hand-pats on the hull confirmed that he was all set to go.

Tamuur shifted in the claustrophobic cockpit to rest better in the confines. He had not allowed anyone but himself to fly this prototype, for a few reasons. He knew Miriam would protest if she knew what he was planning, which was why he sneaked aboard the Angel Moon while she slept. He might be chided for it later- if it were not for the purpose of his mission.

"This is pod 01," He commented as he kicked the engines into action, "Launching."

The pod gurgled out of the launch cradle and blasted out of the starboard side hanger. The white dot zipped into space, faster than any fighter produced by the Angel Moon in her centuries of service. Watching crews yipped in delight at the success of the craft as Tamuur turned the sleek pod and approached the Ararat-Nahb. Slowly, carefully, he cut the thrust and pulled up alongside the ship's bridge. He could see his officer noticing him through the glass, and with a smile he activated his transmitter to signal the ship."

"Cyrus," He said to the comm. officer, "Can you get Miriam on the bridge please? Just knock on the door."

"Yes sir…" Replied the voice of his comm. officer as he left the bridge. Tamuur waited for a moment, watching the proceedings through the side cameras.

Then she appeared. Even from here, her radiant beauty was a sight to behold. She stepped up to the window, her voice asking, "Tamuur?"

"Miriam," He replied, "Remember when Silas said ages ago that I could never be an artist?"

Miriam raised her hands to her face in surprise as she remembered that also.

Smiling in his ship, he said, "I made this for you, Miriam, as a present. I've done this crazy thing because I couldn't think of a better way to ask you to marry me, than by doing something this audacious."

Her reaction was visible even outside. She bowed in surprise, shock, and delight, and then pressed her face and hands against the window.

"I'm shouldn't be surprised you would do something like this. I still remember that old robot you made, when we were children. Yes Tamuur, I will marry you. My answer has always been yes."

Tamuur smiled in his ship as he put in docking orders for the Ararat-Nahb. His heart was singing in his chest, making it difficult to concentrate as he brought his ship home.

* * *

They dragged Silas from the assembly. As he stirred, all he could see was a field of red. Only the white ligts of the occasional lamp cut through the blood-soaked scene and made him aware that he lived still. But not for long.

I am going to die… and be with her… at last…

He closed his eyes At last…

Then he was dropped. He lain on the floor aware that something was happening but not fully conscious of what. As he lay there he found he didn't have the motivation to even move. His fate was in her hands now, if she would forgive him. Then he was picked up again, not dragged, but carried.

Consciousness didn't fully return to him for some time, when he became aware of his surroundings once again.

It was the church- the place where he had been made to see Kadesh. This was her shrine of worship. He made this.

Sitting up, he took note of the candles in the place. Motors hummed silently though he didn't know what they were for. Paintings, scriptures, writings were taped to the wall in various places, not entirely created by his hand.

It hardly looked like the medical ward Silas and Tamuur happened upon years ago.

Taking note of his awakening, the three apostles of Silas's religion turned immediately and bowed before him.

"What is this?" Silas asked cautiously, not sure if this was a dream.

"My lord," Said one, "We rescued you from your captivity. We could not allow the unclean to keep you any longer in their midst."

"Unclean?" Silas asked slowly.

"Yes," Another said, "Kadesh told to us our purpose. 'rescue him', she said, 'spirit him away from that evil place'. So it had to be done."

Silas' eyes lit with newfound vigor. She had been watching.

"My lord," Said the first, Barabbus, "Far too long have you been deprived of sight."

He extended his hand and Silas took the contents he dropped. Two red-and-white pills, gleaming back at him from their place.

Silas smiled.


	9. 1:8 Desecration

**1:8 Desecration**

The month that followed seemed to flow by.

It was a testament to Tamuur's influence and popularity that little expense was spared for his wedding, once the crew had found out. This man had not only given them the power of choice over their destiny, but had also seen to it they had plenty once more with the Angel Moon. No longer would they have to suffice with the dwindling supplies that may run out one day, without warning.

Concurrent with the wedding ceremony was the construction of the fleet of Araraht. Tamuur's space pod was only the first of many that were being stockpiled in the carrier- at least until the first of the great ships was engineered. More of the ships were being drafted from Tamuur's plans and put into production. Behind the fighter pod was the fuel craft- out of necessity given the advanced engine's significant thirst for fuel.

For these new ships, everyone admired their beauty. The smooth ships appeared to be the offspring of the Angel Moon's curved design… ironic, given that the idea for the fighter pod was designed long before the carrier arrived.

There were… other developments.

"Missing?" Tamuur asked one morning in the bridge.

The operations officer, Nanjim, a transfer from the Angel moon, said, "That's what security reported sir. He's just 'missing."

Tamuur sighed and looked out the window of the Ararat-Nahb. He had allowed his zeal and drive for the future cloud his judgment, and once again Silas had slipped from his mind. It was only when he asked himself what could go wrong with this moment that his thought went back to the man who hurt his beloved so. But even as he considered it, a solution was very readily apparent.

Make a ship, put Silas and his cohorts on it, and send them away with the provisions they needed to worship their Goddess in peace. They would never again be allowed aboard the Araraht-Nahb.

Now he had just been told that Silas had been missing for several weeks. Nobody could testify how or why he and his followers disappeared from the confinement ordered by the council. He had heard, however, of what went on in the Chapel of Sajuuk when Tamuur had been finishing the production of his fighter prototype.

He dismissed his operations officer and seated himself in the bridge's command seat. The next problem settled on his mind then: Cain. The man had, for the most part, left Tamuur and his operations alone. Over the years Cain had gone from disgraced councilman to spiritual and religious figurehead of all the worshipers of Sajuuk. Tamuur still suspected the ousting of many priests may have been the result of Cain's wishes. It was unsettling though, to think of what plan Cain was concocting when it was Tamuur's turn to face his wrath.

But at least Cain didn't advocate jumping ship and killing the crew of the Angel moon, nor the Bashaan-Mimb. Tamuur grunted at the memory of that freighter and their first encounter with another race. Fortunately it had not been repeated, but the incident forever taught Tamuur never to trust Silas' followers with any leeway.

"Tamuur?" Asked Miriam's voice, breaking the spell.

Tamuur looked up at once at his bride-to-be. She clad herself in a white and silver dress that had been fabricated aboard the Angel Moon. It had been traded away for rare plants that had been cultivated in the Ararat-Nahb in exchange, and Tamuur was pleased Miriam wore it well. She was giving him a look, the kind of look where she was commanding him to come with her for a private discussion.

Tamuur smiled back, got up, and said to his crew he would be back before leaving the bridge through the same door he burned through to win the freedom of his people.

* * *

"So, Captain…" Miriam said in the privacy of their quarters, "I suppose you have something hidden for our wedding as well?"

"Maybe," He replied with a smirk as her arms were wrapped around his neck. He nodded as he looked down at her, "Maybe I have formation flights close to the ship as we finally leave the nebula with our new fleet."

"Leaving the nebula?" Repeated Miriam, surprised so that she stopped swaying with him and looked at his face.

"Hun," He said, using the name of intimacy between them, "We've been here far too long. Any punishment that was at us in coming is long gone. We have the ability to choose where we want to go, and now the capability of making a fleet to protect us."

"But… the legends… the fear…." Miriam said. She lowered her head, though her eyes were fixed on his, as she said, "You yourself found out they still exist out there. The Mimb claimed they were still out there."

Tamuur spoke without smiling. "I haven't forgotten," he said. He parted from her and took a step towards his desk as he said, "That's why I've made craft totally different from what our ancestors used. They have more power, more sophistication, and are superior in every way. It may not be enough..." He admitted shakily, before turning back to face her, "But I'd rather take that fighting chance with our people than wither and die, forgotten in this place. Our people roamed a world once, with blue skies and tall grasses that felt soft beneath our feet. We can have that again."

Miriam smiled at him, for her heart was always warmed with his determination. It was one of the things she loved most about Tamuur, his devotion to bettering the lives of all of them. She decided then that it was time to reveal her secret."I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" He asked, surprised as she walked back towards him and took his hands. Putting them on her, she ran Tamuur's hands all the way down her figure.

At first Tamuur thought she was signaling for a greater intimacy, but she stopped far too soon for that. It took him a moment to think of where his hands were, and what it could mean… Suddenly it occurred to him and he looked into her eyes.

"Yes," She said, giggled some, "The doctor confirmed it with some of the machines you helped bring aboard. We already know we will have a son."

Tamuur, smiling, hugged his wife-to-be and laughed against her neck. "Sajuuk hasn't struck us down for that violation yet, has he?"

"Perhaps this is how Sajuuk willed it." She answered at his neck, then kissed him.

In their embrace, Tamuur asked, "What shall we call him?"

Miriam thought for a moment, then said, "Tobit." At Tamuur's silence, she said, "A contraction of Tamuur."

"Tobit?" Tamuur repeated. She looked up at him with such a loving stare that Tamuur could not refuse. He laughed and said, "I'll have to sleep on it."

* * *

Anticipation was growing by the day as the wedding was drawing closer. Rumor was spreading that Tamuur had even more audacious plans for the ceremony, and the people were wondering what it could be. The ceremony was turning into a larger event on top of this as expectations were running high. For his part Tamuur tried to downplay the gravity of his wedding, but it was always with a half-smirk. He did have something in mind.

The forum had been decorated with ornaments and lights and other creative things the Angel moon could provide. Proper candles were in use now, since there had been a template for wax designs on the carrier. They were stockpiled in the chapel now, since it had been Tamuur and Miriam's wish to have their union blessed by Sajuuk.

Marriages were uncommon on the ship, sure, but marriages involving a council member were even rarer. This was mostly because council members were appointed when they were older and already married, but as everyone knew, Tamuur was an exception for many things.

It was these exceptions that drive Cain mad. He was in the shrine now, contemplating his options. Not only had members of his flock expressed the desire for Cain to officiate, but an invitation itself had come from Miriam! Cain had spent the intervening hours since learning this, that morning, trying to figure out why this had come to pass.

As a servant of Sajuuk, sin was rife aboard the ship. If it was not that raving cultist and his growing popularity (especially in the face of the backfired public trial ending with his escape), then it was certainly Tamuur and his acts of driving them further and further away from the destiny Sajuuk laid out for them on the trail of tears. It was maddening that the man had not been struck down by Sajuuk yet, though Cain struggled with embers of doubt over whether this may be Sajuuks will after all.

Still, Cain could only afford so many enemies. Though Tamuur had driven them from their chosen path, fate had been kind to the people ever since. It was becoming harder and harder for Cain to suppress the embers of doubt that formed in his mind over whether this was, indeed, blasphemy. After all, Tamuur was still respectful of the church and way of Sajuuk, his breach of the forbidden areas the only thing withstanding.

Silas on the other hand was a far greater threat to the piety of the people. Even as the embers of doubt grew in Cain's mind over Tamuur, so was Cain's regret over releasing this man. He was supposed to be a thorn in Tamuur's side, and while there were reports to this effect, the boy was doing more harm to his own congregation than Cain could have realized! It seemed reasonable to him that the only way out of this predicament, to save the souls of those aboard and protect them from the temptation of the void, was to join with the lesser blasphemer, and down the line guide the flock back to the proper way of Sajuuk.

Cain would have to think about it. It wasn't the last thing on his mind.

* * *

Tamuur came into his room only to see Miriam's bare back. He hesitated in the door and recoiled… he had seen her wedding dress….

"Tamuur?" She asked as she turned around, then sighed, disappointed, "You weren't supposed to see it."

Tamuur, his back to the wall and he himself just a foot away from the door, replied, "I have my eyes closed. I only saw the back."

She giggled, then said, "I was just trying it on… I'll get changed…"

He hit the door to close and sighed happily while leaning against the wall. Marriage…

Their common life together seemed to sidestep the entire question altogether. It seemed so, anyway, that night some months ago. It was general assumption of everyone that they were already married (with some notable exceptions). Tamuur sighed as he considered all the bad things that could go wrong… and then abruptly shoved them aside.

This is MY wedding. Mine and hers. I can't spoil it by thinking of the negatives.

If he did, he would have died long ago in the very same crawl-way some space above his head.

This, he reasoned, would be good. He could deal with the squabbles of the council, Silas and his horde, and the general notion of remaining in the nebula all later. He had a woman to wed- a wonderful woman who had supported him almost his entire life. He wouldn't allow himself to tarnish it with his problems.

The door opened ajar. Thinking, Tamuur realized that it wasn't enough time for Miriam to get completely changed….

A woman's giggle compelled him to smile and enter, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Five days passed.

Silas was sitting beside the window on the first level, a hand brushing the glass over the small white spheroids.

This day… this day he had to make a change.

Bowing to the dust beside Silas, one of his disciples evaded his gaze. "My lord," He said, "They're beginning."

Silas turned his head.

* * *

The fleet had assembled. The Angel Moon pulled up beside the Araraht-Nahb. Around the procession, fighter pods had gathered into ceremonial formations invented for this purpose. They were celebrating the marriage of the thinker.

The people had also assembled, gathering decorations, gifts, and festive feeling. Cake had been made and for this time the cooks of both the old carrier and prison ship combined forces. Recipes for the kinds of food were considered and rejected, only the best was presented.

It was, the council said, a good thing. Not just for their Captain Tamuur and his bride, but for the whole ship. It was a departure from the festival of Deliverance, as that annual celebration was bound in ceremony. Here, the people were not locked in their motions, not bound by convention. Here, they did something new.

Everyone- Tamuur not withstanding- had been surprised when Cain stepped forward and volunteered to perform the matrimony. Tamuur had reportedly hesitated about this, citing Cain's hatred at Tamuur's violation of holy law. Cain said he was willing to put aside such things for a happy union- as he had no problem with this aspect of Tamuur's personality.

The tinkerer-turned-captain had other concerns, but they were not made public. But, finding him in the eve of the ceremony's beginning, he was incredibly nervous. Never had he felt this way before.

It was odd, Tamuur told himself as he waited in the antechamber constructed for this purpose. With his silent ceremonial guard, his mind raced. He shouldn't be nervous- this was just a formal acceptance of what already was.

Tamuur eased a breath from his face. He was in the ceremonial outfit- complete with the ceramic mantle over his shoulders and the robes that hid his figure. It was something the Angel Moon's crew insisted on- based on the ancient Hiigaran dress uniform. It weighed heavy now, like the many burdens on his mind.

What did Miriam look like?

Distant words were spoken at the altar, and Tamuur stiffened with his guard. The doors to the antechamber parted, and Tamuur stepped forward with his escort.

He focused on a steady stride as the millions of eyes fell on him. He walked down the long red carpet, fabricated especially for this, with his four-man point guard. He stared ahead, knowing that he may stumble if he looked up too soon.

When he could see the altar in the corner of his eye, he looked up and saw her. His stride hesitated for that moment, but he picked up his pace while face reddened and he proceeded.

Never had he seen a woman so…decorated… before. She had apparently been gifted ornamentation from across the ship… either that or she had many, many heirlooms from her late mother that she decided to don. Either way, from necklaces to earrings, to the emerald pin in her hair… she looked fantastic. The white only made the colors of the jewels she adorned herself with stand out more. Behind her, tall and imposing, was Cain.

Time drifted as Tamuur mounted the altar beside Miriam. He found it hard to look into her gaze- even beneath the veil she was fantastic. Perhaps it was the makeup she applied- she never had makeup on before. Maybe it was the stare- that longing stare that always stopped him in whatever she looked as she did now. Maybe it was the proximity and the attention… the thousands of eyes upon them was something that never happened before. Maybe it was the fact that Cain, the man who hated him for his transgressions, was just off to his right. And the man was smiling! Tamuur didn't think it was even possible.

But then, they had all come so far…

He returned to the moment. By ceremony's command, he took Miriam's hands. His mind was lost then, the words blurred in that moment. He could only understand Miriam's eyes… and the intensity behind them.

I didn't think it could be like this…

Miriam's eyes turned. Tamuur turned his also.

There were interlopers.

A gang-chain of fifteen of them had come, chanting unintelligible words. They were ragged- none of them were dressed for the ceremony. They now held the attention of the masses.

The marriage cord was already tied about the hands of Miriam and Tamuur. Cain had proceeded without them.

"You may now kiss the bride." He said close to the heads of the young couple. His head was grim.

Tamuur understood in that moment why Cain had done this. It was simultaneous with the realization that only one person in the entire ship would dare interrupt such a festive, happy event.

SILAS.

"Tamuur," Miriam said.

Tamuur didn't hesitate. The veil had already been lifted.

As he kissed her, a scream echoed down the hall, making their moment of intimacy brief. Both turned to stare down the aisle.

A figure was running. A figure that had once been Tamuur's friend, in a time long forgotten.

Now transformed into a zealot of his own religion, Silas stared up at the altar from its base. Anger was on his face, and that anger was directed now at Tamuur.

It was the first time Silas had directly identified Tamuur in years. It was an odd feeling.

"YOU HAVE DEFILED KADESH!" He screamed, "YOU ARE UNCLEAN! YOU DEFILE HER NAME!"

Miriam paled. This again. It was the one thing that kept her up at night- the nightmare…

Come true.

But now Tamuur was advancing, once again with violence in his eyes, "SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO MARRY ME! IT IS WRITTEN! IT IS PROPHECY!" His voice was hoarse from the shouting he was doing.

The assembly was divided. Many of them liked what this prophet was saying- but what was he saying here?

Silas leapt once again at Tamuur. Forcing to slip his hands from the bond, the two men locked arms as Silas once again sought to kill the holder of his woman's affections.

Miriam just watched, stunned. The audience did, also.

Cain was incensed, but all he could do was hurl divine curses at Silas- not just for being a heretic, but for interrupting one of the population's most revered ceremonies.

Silas had just turned this event into a circus.

Miriam, holding the cable of the union, remained in a stupor for a moment before deciding to take matters into her own hands. "SILAS!"

Silas- and his congregation- stopped. All eyes turned to her.

Silas ceased his fighting, as did Tamuur. Both men parted.

It was difficult to do so, but Miriam stepped forward and slapped Silas so hard he fell from standing. Maybe he allowed himself to do so- beholden by the mortal beauty of Kadesh. Either way, Silas fell- and fell hard. He hit the stairs of the platform arranged there and rolled to the harsh metal deck of the ship.

Miriam, still pale with anger, watched him as he descended to the floor. Tamuur didn't know if she was approachable now or not.

Silas didn't move after his tumble, but stared up at Miriam.

"Miriam why-"

"Be quiet." Miriam answered, "I'm not having this anymore Silas. What's happened to you? You used to be such a poet… a dreamer… a writer and story maker. Now look at you- you've destroyed yourself with drugs and have turned into a monster! I can't see how someone like you could think you'd be worthy of me. You need help Silas, and in a serious way."

"M-My garden…" Silas murmured.

Miriam turned around to Tamuur, taking his hands. "Let's go."

"Wh-"

"I Don't care. Away from this ship. Away from him."

Tamuur took one look over her shoulder at Silas, then turned his head as he took Miriam's hands and guided her from the stage.

The way it was supposed to happen was that they would go down the center aisle a happy couple, showered with Aiia pedals and given warm blessings and gifts.

Instead, they departed by a side route. The followers of Kadesh would not permit them any other way.

Silas got up, but before he could pursue them, the couple was gone.

* * *

Miriam managed to maintain her furious composure until she got to the cabin. There, she threw herself on the bed and started to cry. Tamuur watched her for a moment, wondering what he could do to help, before sitting beside the bed and finding one of her hands. Hers took his in an eager embrace, and she trembled with emotion as she continued to sob.

Sucking in some breaths, she said, "We have to leave. We can't stay here."

"Yes." Was all Tamuur could say, nodding slowly as he did.

"I'm not ready to be someone's goddess!" She protested, "I don't want to be revered! I just want….want to be…normal…I want things to go normally!"

The context was wrong, but Silas knew what she was talking about. Reverence wasn't the problem- but elevation to godhood was not something either of them wanted. It was fine enough to be just popular and well liked as mortals. Because of Silas, Miriam had been elevated to a goddess… and Tamuur, he suspected, was demonized in Silas' canon and made out to be some usurper of heaven.

Tamuur looked away. Theology was not his forte, just mechanics. From the standpoint of an inventor, there was no solution for this problem… except to go somewhere else.

Exile for Silas and his party was looking all the more of an attractive option. But then, an alternative had reached Tamuur, something he was surprised he hadn't thought of before. Instead of exile, exodus.

With a smirk he thought of the plan as thus: all the crazy people remain on the Araraht-Nahb, and all the sane people would depart on the Angel Moon. He hated to suggest it, but the Araraht-Nahb wasn't really ideal for his vision of the future of his people. It was unarmed, unarmored, and virtually target practice for any kind of ship designed even for the remote possibility of fighting.

He considered these things, and rubbed a thumb across Miriam's palm. She continued sobbing in the sheets.

"We'll move." He said, "Let's move to the Angel Moon. We can't stay here."

"We can't." She confirmed.

Tamuur nodded again, slowly, as his mind went through what would be transferred, and what would remain. The door could be locked and sealed, just in case things had to be left here to return for in another time. He had to transfer his books, his notes, and the blueprints for ships not yet constructed. They would all have to be moved to the Angel Moon.

And yes, he remembered, even his journals he was just now starting to write. Journals, he intended, to leave for his son.

He nodded slowly while still stroking his woman's hand. Today was only a confirmation of the journal's existence. The fact that Silas attacked him might inspire others to do so, someday. If they came for him before his plans were completed, Tamuur wanted to have something to pass on to a child he may never see.

What scared Tamuur more than anything was that this possibility was starting to look true.


	10. 1:9 First Light

**1:9 First light**

There was a crisis.

Aboard the angel moon, an emergency had been declared. Someone was in trouble.

Wincing in pain, Miriam tried her best to keep standing as Tamuur helped her through the halls of the Angel Moon. Shortly after emerging from their room, a stretcher with nurses came to meet them mere feet outside their door. She was rushed to the hospital immediately.

She was very round around the middle when she arrived.

* * *

Tamuur could do nothing except wait outside the door to the ship's infirmary. His mind was running through all the tragedies that could possibly happen to his wife and their yet-to-be-born son. Was the staff fully competent? Was maintenance on all the machines adequately performed?

Of course, the worst then suddenly occurred to him.

He would have to deal with it as soon as he was able. For now, he waited for word on his wife. Everything would be for naught if she were to die in childbirth.

* * *

He had not eaten in days.

They left him alone in the Shrine… few went up there to check on him, but as the months passed it seems the voice of Kadesh had finally evaded their savior. By then, however, new voices had risen out of the chosen of Silas…

In particular, Barabbus, the favored son.

While Silas the prophet was meditating above, his sons brought the word to the people. Chief and most vocal among them was Barabbus, a copy of The Book close at hand as he brought to the people the revelation of Her Gentle Kindness… the empathy that enveloped them all. In maneuvering fate, She had taken them into her womb… the womb of stars, to be reborn as stars, and share the luminescence of the universe.

'What of the others?' one had asked in the crowd.

There were no others, Barabbus preached.

'The other ships!' another clarified, 'Other ships like ours!'

After a moment of thought, Barabbus interpreted the teachings of the book as thus: "The people on the trail of tears were the unworthy. They left departed for reaches unknown- our sad kindred in the stars never to be seen or heard from again. They are in purgatory… their journey lasts forever as they pay for their sins…

"…but WE, WE, the chosen of Kadesh, had been granted by her mercy freedom and eternal life in the uterus of her being. It is We, the cast out, who will become the Sons and Daughters of Kadesh by reveling in her mercy."

Perhaps as a plant among the audience, another voice asked, "What of Sajuuk? He Who Shapes What Is? What is he to the Goddess Kadesh?"

Barabbus turned to find the origin of the voice and spoke, "Would any benevolent God on high abandon his children to suffer as we have, before Kadesh's arms took us in?"

"Then how do we know it is not Sajuuk, rather than Kadesh, who has delivered us?" Asked the voice.

Barabbus answered, "Because he who has spoken with Kadesh, the prophet Silas, tells us that the glories we experience are in her name. Had Sajuuk been the force behind these miracles, wouldn't the shrine be first to proclaim them? Instead, they denounce the miracle of our freedom and cower behind their ancient, dead, religion."

This caused an uproar that ended the sermon. While voices rose to defend the religion of Sajuuk, many did it out of fear of their own souls. What disturbed a few in the audience, however, was that an equal number of voices rose to defend the new religion. It either meant the souls of the ship's population were in spiritual danger, or that the Shrine of Sajuuk was loosing its grip on control of the populace.

* * *

Tamuur's thoughts were interrupted by the screams. He raised his head and looked to the large doors of the ship's infirmary. These were not the screams of pain, or of despair. Rather- these were screams he had never heard before.

As if on cue, the door opened. One of the nurses, clad in her teal medical jumpsuit, only smiled and waved him in. Tamuur, leader of the people, stood and entered the room.

The complex medical machinery had been rearranged and moved aside- there was little need for it now. Tamuur, eyes in awe, approached his wife. She noticed and smiled at him as she held their child. With no words, Tamuur completed his movement to the bedside.

Miriam looked down at the little baby in her arms and said, "Tobit… this is your father, Tamuur. See? Tamuur?"

Both of them knew that the baby wouldn't be able to see for a while yet- his eyes weren't open. But Tamuur leaned down enough to the bed to have the baby touch his face.

In that moment, all concern and worry for the machinations of people left his mind. The universe outside ceased to exist- all that was, was in that moment. Any thought other than the gentle peace of this sight left his mind.

Tamuur was a father. A father! He had never thought it would, or could, be like this. This thing in Miriam's hands was his child. The very child that, someday, may inherit his position.

Though a creeping thought of warning crept up to him, Tamuur suppressed it. He would not let that fanatic or his minions soil this moment, of all moments.

Tamuur's hands reached around his wife and son in an embrace.

* * *

A day passed.

There seemed to manifest on the ships a tense silence… as if a word unspoken was lingering in the air and on everyone's minds. The people moved about differently now, as if some great secret had been said and was supposed to be kept.

Things happened when some of the lights started to fail in the great hall of the tent city. It was a bad omen, some said, while others dismissed the mumbling of the old and the insightful. How could there be anything wrong?

The lights gave the impression of evening in the city, as if the ship were now shrouded in the uncertain dusk of a closing age. Things happened now, leading many alien scholars in the future to speculate on what happened during this time.

In a secret place, Barabbus called together the congregation. They met in the agricultural levels, where the farmers had been dismissed or subverted into faith. At the center of the group's attention, Barabbus waited silently as the few trickled in and spoke in whispered voices.

When there was enough, Barabbus turned and nodded to a figure.

A man stepped forward. He had his face shrouded behind a mask so that none would know his true identity. Barabbus knew him, though, and his place in the world that surrounded them. "You hold the keys," Barabbus said.

"Yes." Replied the masked man, and held up a small metal token.

"You will give it to me." Barabbus said and held out his hand. The masked man placed it in his hand, and Barabbus closed and withdrew the fist in a quick manner. Looking up, he said, "The time of holy ascension is nigh. Soon, my brothers and sisters, all will be made to see the light of Kadesh. All will be saved from the heresies which they throw themselves onto."

"What of the other ship? The false moon?" Asked a voice.

"They too, will know the enlightenment of Kadesh." Barabbus said. He looked about the circle and said, "We shall move soon. Listen for the signs."

Silently they departed, all knowing in their minds the parts they were to play.

But Barabbus waited a while, standing in one of the dark corners as he watched his followers depart. Two of them, however, drifted closer to him to engage in hushed conversation.

One dipped his head, "When will we move?"

"Soon." Barabbus said, "When it is night and all are asleep."

"Are you certain we will be able to pull this off?" Asked another.

"If we are certain, then we cannot fail." Barabbus answered.

"What about Silas?" Asked the first, "Shouldn't we bring him out to make a sermon before we launch the uprising?"

"That fool? No. He has served his purpose. All we need now is make sure all of our acolytes follow the word of Kadesh blindly… as long as we are the ones speaking it. Now, away, I will signal you when the time is right."

The three shadows disappeared within moments, all of them counting down with eager anticipation the moment when they could seize the Goddess for themselves.

* * *

Tamuur was on the observation deck in the conning tower, staring out at the other ship. Night cycle was going to rotate into being sometime soon, but Tamuur wanted to have some things settled before he would return to that ship.

Miriam wanted him to stay, but Tamuur knew he had administrative duties to attend to. He had been favoring the Angel Moon for far too long, and left his duties on the Araraht-Nahb to abandon. If he was to take pride in being the leader of his people, he couldn't show that he had abandoned them.

But what to do about Silas and his cultists? Tamuur didn't know the extent of the mad prophet's influence, nor what it was capable of. He decided to try to think of a plan of action to have before he went back over there.

There were some possibilities. Perhaps he could allow the cultists to remain on the Araraht-Nahb, while the rest of the population boarded the Angel Moon and set off elsewhere with it's newfound fleet of defensive spacecraft. It seemed like a logical solution, perhaps he could even get Cain on his side for that idea.

But how to propose it to them… Tamuur had great reluctance to approach Silas again, but perhaps he could do it if he knew it was the last time he was ever going to see that madman. And while the thought was cruel, just abandoning the cultists to fate, it seems that's what they wanted. Tamuur would be more than happy to let them worship without interference from the rest of the population.

He tapped his stylus on the tablet as he tried to think of what he would say to the cultists. He frowned.

A figure approached him and Tamuur looked up, then smiled, as he saw Miriam approaching in a flowing white gown. Perhaps another thing taken from the inventory of the Angel Moon… their slice of heaven, when compared to the hell that the Araraht-Nahb seemed to be turning into.

"It's almost night," She said, despite the ever-glowing exterior of the nebula, "You should be thinking about getting to bed."

Tamuur smiled, but sighed and put a hand to his head saying, "I have a lot to think about."

Miriam's expression dimmed a little when she thought of what Tamuur had been thinking about, but she brightened again for his sake and said, "Joan is looking over Tobit now… but I know he's ready for bed."

Tamuur laughed, and with a mutter got up out of the seat, "I have a feeling he'll know what to do with himself when he's older…like I am."

Tamuur stumbled and Miriam caught him. Smiling, Tamuur said, "Ah… dizzy…"

"You stood up too fast." Miriam said, still with a smile, then leaned closer to him to say, "Your body is telling you to get some sleep."

"But my mind has a lot to worry about." Tamuur answered.

"Well," Miriam said while shrugging, "I suppose it's time to listen to your body and let it tell your mind to go to bed."

Tamuur smiled at her, and then lowered his head to kiss his wife gently on the lips. With her he walked from the observation port to the sleeping quarters deep inside the ship.

Some in future generations may say that Tamuur would regret letting his mind go on the issue of the cultists and following his wife to bed. But perhaps that's what he wanted in the end, to please his wife…

* * *

Night.

On the Araraht-Nahb, night was represented by half of the lights being clicked off in the giant cargo space over the city. There was still plenty of light to constitute a day, a dusk at best, but there was still enough darkness for those in the tents to sleep.

For others, there was no sleep… just an urge to be satisfied. It was a hunger.

Just outside the bridge, a key was being turned. They moved silently and deliberately as if they had practiced for this all their lives. The darkened figures clustered around the cabinet, eager to trade their clubs and crude farming tools for real implements.

Nothing could prevent the groaning of the cabinet door however, and all heads turned. Down the hall, a head peeked out from the bridge. "Hello?"

Three men fell on the officer in an instant, and as he screamed, others in the bridge turned their heads and started to panic. Of the eight in the bridge, hand-picked by Tamuur, one of them turned and tapped the buttons to initiate the distress call. He was about to speak into the pickup, when another one of the bridge officers slammed a sharp metal blade into the man's neck, then again into his back. That officer looked cooly at the dead man as the other cultists came into the bridge and secured it of the defilers.

The rebellion had begun. Behind them, the weapons locker had been opened and implements were being passed out. They now had the means to preach and punish in the name of their Goddess.

* * *

Tamuur had barely been asleep when unfamiliar sirens rang in the room. Tobit started crying immediately, and Miriam's eyes snapped open. Tamuur was already out of bed and slipping on a robe.

"Beloved," She said, "What's going on?"

Though Tamuur wanted to answer her sweetly and kindly as her husband, he had no choice but to answer her in the harsh, commanding tone that he needed to deal with The crisis. "I intend to find out."

He reached the door and paused in it to look back at his wife, who worriedly stared up at him. His eyes softened for a moment, before he tore himself away from her vision and hurried up the length of the ship to the bridge to get some answers.

As he walked, he learned that the klaxon was the carrier's ancient general quarters siren. It was sounded in times of crisis, when all hands were to report to battle stations. It was the first time Tamuur had heard the klaxon ringing.

* * *

Silas was virtually comatose in the temple. Only one was there to watch him, assigned to this task to write down any insights Silas had to offer. The deciple for this watch was a woman called Lilith, who seemed more interested in decorating herself this night than anything the prophet had to say. As she arrayed her hair, Silas was laying down in the circular place which, long ago, was an intensive operating ward. His eyes were open.

Beside him and scattered across the floor were the last of those pills. He had been taking them almost nonstop for days now, trying to find some answer to questions he could not voice or rationalize. He just stared…waiting.

Lilith looked up from her place in the room, then smiled. Perhaps there was some use this prophet had for her after all… She stood and walked for the archway into the room.

"No," Silas murmured.

Silas…

"No…."

He rolled on his side, his back to the doorway. He didn't want to face what he heard was coming.

Silas…

His head spun.

Silas…

"No!" He grunted.

Lilith stepped into the room and smiled. "My lord," She said, "May I ask something of you?"

Silas didn't hear her, or perhaps he did, for now there was another thing in his vision. Voices were talking to him…voices unwanted. He clutched at his head.

Lilith knelt down beside him and started to stroke his hair with her long fingernails. "My lord," She said, the rest descending into murmurs.

The voices were crowding Silas's head. He couldn't think, he couldn't reason.

"N-NOOO!" He roared, ripping the air and slashing Lilith's seductive face with his fingers. But he wasn't to attack her, he ran from the room with wide eyes. He had to escape them.

Escape the voices.

* * *

A few precious rounds were used to get everyone's attention. All needed to hear the sermon of Kadesh.

The cultists had gone through the city, using the sounds of weapons in the air to draw their attention. They had gathered everyone to the circle, where they would witness the living word of Kadesh.

They had built something. Using discovered beams and twine, they had bound the false preist to the rack for everyone to see. Cain, bludgeoned into awakening and dragged from his stead, was now lashed to the huge rack above the crowd. His arms were splayed and his legs bound together, while his torso was left to hang as he suffered.

Barabbus, the Speaker of Kadesh, stood before them with a whip he had made out of medical tubing. Stabbed into this tube were shards of metal.

The other cultists had brought a transmitter with them and were setting up the equipment. They had a message to give, and give it they would, to both the congregation here and the unbelievers on the false moon.

Barabbus had no emotion as he watched the proceedings. He had a job to do.

He glanced between the two disciples under his command and they nodded amidst the crowd of cultists. They would be the first cardinals under his rule. Only they knew the true extent of Barabbus' plans.

When all was said and done, the cultists nodded to Barabbus.

* * *

Tamuur made it to the bridge as the blue-suited crew moved about their stations. They had rehearsed this for generations, and were on the dot as their ancestors had instructed them to be.

But there was a problem. There were no enemy vessels in the space surrounding them. They were not under attack, nor was there any preceived attack against the ships. Despite both fighters and pods being launched, there was no sign of the enemy.

Tamuur saw all this as he entered, and asked, "What's going on?"

"There's a distress signal from the Araraht-Nahb…" The executive officer said, but winced, "But there's no audio. I'm just getting the signal but no transmissions."

Tamuur winced, then asked, "Have you tried raising them?"

"I have, no answer." Replied the officer.

Tamuur turned to the comm. panel and tried to raise the Araraht-Nahb, "Araraht-Nahb, this is Tamuur. Odin, do you read? Odin?" After no response, he glanced at the XO and leaned up while looking at the panel, "That's odd, there's eight officers on the bridge. Surely-"

"Sir!" The comm. officer said, "I'm getting a feed from the Araraht-Nahb!"

"Let's see it," The XO said.

* * *

"Children of Kadesh," Barabbus declared, "We welcome you to this celebration of awakening. For all those here, and all those aboard the false moon, we bring you a message from the Goddess Kadesh… a call to obedience and servitude in her name. Observe here, we have one of the two greatest heretics of our time… the false Preist Cain."

The camera focused from Barabbus to Cain, bleeding from the face and mounted upon the metal rack.

"This man claims to be following a deity called Sajuuk, a name that has become synonymous with heresy. For if the deity Sajuuk were as benevolent as he claimed, why were we cast into the void for all our lives, and our fathers fathers made to suffer the eternal march of the trail of tears?

"It was Kadesh, however, that drew us into the nebula. Through the actions of her avatar Silas, we were brought into her benevolence and made protected by her divine glory."

"It was," Cain rasped, "Tah-muur."

Barabbus paused for a moment, then turned and in one motion brought the lash down upon Cain. The jagged whip cut a scar across the man's chest, making him groan aloud in pain.

"You will not deny the glory of Kadesh through Silas," Barabbus said plainly, "Such is heresy that shall be punished."

"But it is the truth," Grunted Cain.

The lash descended again.

"There is no truth except the word of Kadesh." Replied Barabbus.

"But he's right," Someone in the crowd spoke, "It was Tamuur that went into the bridge and changed our course, not-"

That person was seized and brought forward. It was a woman, perhaps eighteen years of age. She was manhandled through the crowd and brought before Barabbus. They forced her on her knees.

"What do you mean to say to me?" Asked Barabbus.

The woman, quivering with fear at the sight of the whip, shook her head, "I said nothing!"

"You said something." Barabbus said and made a subtle gesture. The guards grabbed her and forced her head up. She grunted. "Speak." Barabbus said.

The woman, shivering with fear, spoke, "Si-Silas didn't do it! I-It was T-Tamuur…H-He fr-freed us f-from the t-trail!"

Barabbus nodded, then made another gesture. The guards released her.

"You speak heresy against the will of the Garden. This shall be punished."

The guards started to beat her with their new weapons. She cried and screamed, and the assembled crowd of people backed up some from the proceedings. None could leave because of the fanatics with the weapons.

All of this was being captured and relayed by the video feed.

* * *

On the bridge, people were cringing from the barbarism that was going on. Tamuur was stunned.

"Sir," The XO said, "Orders?"

Tamuur looked at the man, then asked, "Are any of you competent in inter-ship fighting?"

"Some of us had ancestry in the marines sir." Replied the XO.

"Gather the best of your men and prepare to join me in the hanger."

"Sir," A woman on the bridge said, "You're going to go against them?"

Tamuur looked at her and said, "How many innocent people do you think are over there?"

The bridge crew exchanged glances.

"We have to do something," Tamuur said, "we can't just leave them over there."

"But against them?" The woman asked.

Tamuur said, "You're all descendants from the crew of a military space ship. For the most part, the Araraht-Nahb consists of civilians who've had no military training."

The bridge crew looked at one another again.

"Half hour, in the hanger." Tamuur said and left the bridge.

* * *

The woman was a bloody mess, but still breathing, when they dragged her back into the crowd. There was silence and tears from the assembled audience.

"This fate awaits the unfaithful of Kadesh." Replied Barabbus, "All those who do not believe and speak her name in reverence will meet the same fate." He turned back to Cain.

Cain glared back from his place on the mount.

"Now," Barabbus said, "You too, priest, may be saved… as well as those misguided members of your congregation… if you bow your head and accept the will of Kadesh."

"The will?" Cain muttered, then managed to utter a laugh before saying, "Will? What do you know of Gods and dieties? Though Sajuuk is a harsh-"

The lash descended again, but Cain continued despite the pain. Rasping, he went on, "hash God…but he…he makes us grow. We are his children, and we grow through the things in which we suffer…"

The lash descended again.

Cain slumped on the mount, but after grunting and struggling, he raised his head again and spoke, "I realize this only now at the end… Sajuuk is a father… he treats us harshly, but for it…we become…better-"

"Enough, Heretic." Barabbus said, then lashed the old man again and again.

"STOP!" Someone shouted.

Barabbus turned, and saw the defiant one approach, manhandled by the guards.

"So another one wishes to defy the word of Kadesh," Barabbus said.

* * *

Tamuur was impressed. Soldiers donned in ancient combat armor, armed with fully automatic anti-personal weaponry, had assembled in the hanger. What he had, in ancient Hiigaran terms, was a full squadron of power-armored space troopers. From their stance and their aura, he guessed they had been trained well. In the minutes of arming up himself, he learned that the marines here were a cult of their own- the cult of Sajuuk. They took up arms to protect their fellows, ceremoniously, from the few pirates and marauders that came to sack the ancient carrier.

Ironic, that Tamuur was asking the cult of one deity to fight another. On that same note though, Tamuur estimated they were horribly outgunned. But at least they had fighting experience and superior protection on their side.

Tamuur had never fired a weapon before, but knew the principles of how they worked. Aim and shoot. He was no sharpshooter, but he supposed with a fully automatic weapon it didn't matter. As he armored himself up, he reminded himself of his one mission: Kill Silas. Even if he wasn't directly behind the display going on in the Araraht-Nahb now, his death might make the cult leaders loose legitimacy in the eyes of their congregation. Silas was not invincible.

Before he put his helmet on, a hand stroked the back of his head. He turned around and saw Miriam standing behind him, in her nightgown, with a look on her face that struck a dagger of reluctance into his heart. Were it not for the concern of the people on the Araraht-Nahb, he would have disarmed and remained by her side right then and there.

No words were said at first, he just gave her a hug. He wished he could do it outside the armor- to touch his skin to her own, but the only satisfaction from this was giving her the profound kiss.

No words were said between them until the last, for perhaps both of them knew what the future was going to hold for them. Tamuur and the other marines crowded into the corvette, ready to assault the Araraht-Nahb and free the population from the tyranny of a cult.

His helmet still off, Tamuur proclaimed to Miriam not a false promise to return, nor a bid for luck.

Instead, he declared, "I love you always, Miriam."

The doors closed, leaving Tamuur only the vision of Miriam through the glass. She made a gesture with her right hand over her heart… a sigil the two of them shared since the day after their wedding.

Tamuur nodded, then closed his eyes and turned away. This had to be done. He sealed the helmet over his head and prepared to descend into the hell that was Araraht-Nahb.


	11. 1:10 Kadesh

**1:10 Kadesh**

Cain remained hanging there on the rack, his head lowered. He was still breathing despite the lashings dealt to him by the cultists.

Barabbus thought the whole proceedings were going along splendidly. Fear was the target he was hoping to endure, and he could see it in all the eyes of the unbelievers. Even among the congregation he could see fear in their eyes… fear either of becoming un-devout, or the punishment they would receive if they were that way. But there were more firm faces, more people who believed in the gospel of Silas and that they were protected by an almighty deity embodied in the nebula.

Barabbus didn't care one way or another. Power is what he wanted, and power is what he would gain. He turned away from Cain and to the crowd, many of which were tearful and crying, and more wrapped in fear.

He had his disciples move among the people and bring out the young or able-bodied men and had them kneel before him and pledge allegiance to the Goddess Kadesh. Those that refused, or did not show enough sincerity in their words were beaten by the guards.

Barabbus knew that some among the populace hated it, and hated them. But the one thing that kept them from doing anything about it was the fact that the cultists were armed with guns. A man, no matter how long or strong he was, was useless when faced against the power of the gun. Power now rested in the hands of the cultists, at least on the Araraht-Nahb. Soon his power would even extend to the false moon.

At this thought he smiled. Nothing could stop him now.

* * *

The corvette carrying twenty five armed marines landed in the hanger with no resistance. Even after the cargo bay had cycled and the marines were moving into the ship, no resistance came to meet them.

"Do you think they know we're here?" Asked one of the marines.

"No." Tamuur replied, then spoke over the communications channel to the marines. He addressed their leader, "Colonel Riggs", a ceramonious name adopted down the generations from the first commander of the marine forces. Tamuur said, "You take your squadron to the city and see if you can free the citizens and get them to the hanger. I'll take two men and go to the bridge and engineering."

"What for?" Riggs asked.

"A job." Tamuur said, then reached out and clapped a hand on the marine's shoulder, "May Sajuuk be with you."

"With us all, Tamuur." Replied Riggs and with several hand motions took his men and started for the city. Two of the marines fell in line beside Tamuur, and the trio started for the bridge.

* * *

Barabbus now had the people all kneeling and repeating their praise for Kadesh, repeating the words Silas had written down long ago.

_Kadesh our savior and Goddess  
Heal us now, embrace us in your crimson light  
Envelop our souls in the warm grasp of heaven  
And let our souls cry out your name on our deaths_

As they were doing this, unseen to the cultists, the marines moved through the tents, seeking a good place to infiltrate and destroy the cultists. Though they were not the crack-trained elite troopers their ancestors had been, they had knowledge to go on.

When one of the cultists spotted the group of soldiers, all hell broke loose. The cultist opened fire and three of the marines fired back- riddling the gun-armed man with bullets and felling him with holes.

A woman screamed, and the cultists converged on the center of the circle. Two of them, however, grabbed hostages and approached Barabbus, who just remained standing at the center of the open ring with his whip.

* * *

Tamuur and his men made it to the bridge and quickly dispatched the two cultists standing there. Tamuur hesitated when he recognized Belgaphor, one of the officers he set on the bridge, and shook his head.

The marines stood watch while Tamuur went to the controls. Seated at the helm station he had taken for himself long ago, he hit the familiar keys to override every other panel and shunt it to his station. Then he began to work. He deactivated the distress signal and input commands into the navigational computer.

"Angel Moon," he said when he had accessed communications, "I am transmitting all the navigational data available in the database here to you. Signal on complete reception."

"Understood…. Got it. Transmission complete." Replied the Angel Moon.

"Good. This is Araraht-Nahb, going dark. Sajuuk catch us."

"Sajuuk be with us all." Was the last transmission the Araraht-Nahb ever received.

Tamuur, in five quick keystrokes, deleted the entire communications programming from the hard drive of the ship. In another, he deleted the entire navigational database. In a third, he wiped the hyperspace control program. In effect, he had turned the Araraht-Nahb from an ark in space to a simple mobile container.

There was only a few things left to do. He tapped several controls in the bridge, which would disable the navigational controls. As he got up from the station he stopped and paused to watch the control panel go dark, before moving away from the station and distancing himself from the thought of watching his first command die at his hand.

"Let's go." He said.

Tamuur stepped outside the door once before being pushed from behind. The guard that had shoved Tamuur had his helmet cracked open by an axe.

As Tamuur rolled the other guard fired point-blank into the cultist, catching him and the other one who had been armed with an automatic weapon. Both went down in bloody messes.

Tammur stood while the other marine checked on his compatriot. The marine looked up and shook his head.

Tamuur didn't say anything, but turned and started for his second of three objectives: The engine room.

* * *

Cultists were going down left and right in the tent city, but the problem is there were too many of them. Twice the marines had been flanked and lost a significant portion of their number. Perhaps, their leader realized, it was because they had access to higher caliber weaponry.

There were fifteen marines left now, having barricaded themselves behind tables and other solid objects and were returning fire. The cultists, likewise, had also taken up positions behind barricades and things and were firing back.

Stalemate, so far.

Barabbus remained standing before the rack where Cain had been lashed. No shots had come his way, possibly because his two cardinals held prisoners with guns to their heads. Barabbus was letting this sink in and time being wasted before calling an ultimatum.

A hand touched him and he whirled. The girl that did so fell on her knees immediately. "What do you dare to say to me?" Barabbus asked.

"My lord," The girl said, "Silas has fled."

"Fled?" Asked Barabbus, "Where?"

"I don't know… I did not follow him."

"What were you doing girl?"

"I was….I was…."

"Where is he?" Barabbus asked.

"I-I don't- I don't know!"

A tense silence hung there, before Barabbus turned. "Go. Leave my sight."

She did so without question, leaving Barabbus to think. He had counted on using the pathetic creature as a figurehead… but… could it be possible without him?

* * *

The engine room made Tamuur pause for a second. So much time spent here…

But only for a second. He moved quickly to do what had to be done. First he went to the main engineering panel while the marine stood guard. Tamuur worked to disable the hyperspace engines… he did this by beginning a hyperspace charge. He needed to wait ten minutes for the charge to be at least half, and then trip the core into charging again. The overload of the hyperspace core would destroy some of the more delicate components of the ancient engine, rendering it a huge inert spheroid incapable of projecting a useful quantum waveform.

If they tried… well… Tamuur couldn't be held responsible for the results.

So while he waited, Tamuur stood and looked about the engineering space, recalling happier days when he and others of similar interest moved about thisplace mapping every inch of the structure. He had come to learn what every little pipe did, what every bolt and weld held together, and what every light meant. This place had been as much his home as did Miriam's arms.

And now he had a son… whose only vision of this place would be the stories he would tell them.

A scream interrupted his thoughts, and he turned around and stopped dead cold.

The marine who had been guarding the door now had his spine split open and was bleeding profusely from blackened skin. Standing over him, shirtless, was Silas… holding in his hands the thermal saw Tamuur had used long ago on the door to the bridge.

With the blade at white-hot intensity, even a tap would burn away anything it came in contact with. Tamuur raised his weapon too late to shoot Silas and had to duck as the mad prophet threw the thermal saw at him.

* * *

"Are you finished yet!?" Barabbus screamed to the air.

All gunfire stopped and both sides directed their attention to the cult leader. He, his bishops, and their prisoners, walked calmly out into the space between both parties. The prisoners, both women, shivered under the grasp of their captors.

"I have hostages," said Barabbus, "And unless you surrender immediately, I shall kill them."

The marines looked at one another behind their barricades.

"They mean nothing to me," said Barabbus, "There are plenty more where they come from. I can have more snatched…unless you cooperate."

"We will negotiate your surrender!" The general answered.

Barabbus turned and motioned a finger.

A gunshot sounded and a body fell to the floor. The other girl gave out a cry but was muffled by the guard.

There was a stirring behind the barricade. These monsters!

"I have another prisoner, and more can be fetched. What will it be, invaders? More innocent lives for your attempt to stop the word of Kadesh?"

The marines glanced at one another, unsure of what to do. Had these been the battle hardened, war-weary and desperate marines of ancient times on the Angel Moon, they would have stood in unison and mowed down the entire lot. While it was sacrilegious to let an innocent civilian die, the thinking among those ancient marines was that the leader and his ilk had to be eliminated if all were to be saved.

But ages of dogmatic practice on protecting the sanctity of life had been ingrained into the marines to a hysterical degree. With one life being threatened, and one life already extinguished, what choice could they have?

One stood and tried to nail Barabbus with a precision shot, but he died under a hail of gunfire. His mangled body descended to the ground.

"I will forgive that insult," Barabbus said, "If you surrender."

The colonel looked at his men.

* * *

Silas was on Tamuur in an instant. The brazen fury in Silas' eyes seemed to negate the effect the battle armor had as the thin figure of insane energy strangled Tamuur within his very armor.

On the grating beside him, the two portions of the assault rifle sizzled where the thermal saw had cut between them. The saw itself was slowly burning through the grating in the deck, still white-hot.

Tamuur managed to free himself by using the armor's superior strength in the legs to force Silas off of him, where Tamuur stood. Silas punched Tamuur in the head, jarring the older man in the helm despite Silas bloodying his own hand.

Tamuur staggered and Silas kicked him with a foot, making Tamuur stammer again. The tinkerer wondered where Silas was getting all this strength, and quickly guessed that it must have been a side effect of all those drugs taken or something.

Regardless, Silas was hitting him with blows that seemed to make his power armor nothing. The next blow blew his helmet off it's mount and sent it flying into the vast chasms of the engine chamber.

Now Silas hit him in the head, giving Tamuur a bloody nose and sending him to the deck. Silas was again on Tamuur, trying again to strangle him, but Silas managed to get a hand in position and clocked Silas with a fist.

The younger man rolled off of Tamuur, but quickly rose to a stand and waited as Tamuur, too stood.

Wiping blood from his nose, Tamuur asked, "Why do you wait? You've already sent your minions out to kill everyone, and you've already bloodied me up. What are you waiting for, oh great prophet Silas?"

Silas panted like madman, staring with evil in his eyes, before he seemed to sigh it out and say, "I'm tired of the voices."

Tamuur didn't say anything, but the response surprised him.

"They keep talking to me…in my head… I can't escape them. I came here…the noise…to drown them out. I came here to escape them." Then madness came back into his eyes, "But they came back when you came!"

Silas ran at Tamuur, but the armored tinkerer was ready. He side-stepped Silas and caught him in the chest with a fist, knocking the wind out of Silas and sending the madman to the ground.

Tamuur, in rage, raised a foot and was going to crush Silas's skull. But then at that instant, Miriam came to his mind and he looked into Silas's face.

The madman wasn't there. Instead he saw someone in deep pain… hurt laced Silas's face. Though rage was in his eyes and anger in his tone, he seemed more feral than human… as if all this talk of prophecy and Kadesh wasn't worship, but torture. The hesitance allowed Silas to roll away from Tamuur and hit him, sending Tamuur back towards the door.

Tamuur stood again, and Silas remained standing there, ready to pounce.

"Playing with your prey?" Tamuur said and coughed.

"No." Silas replied. He reached over and ripped off a service wrench from the wall and brandished it like a club.

Tamuur, hoping his armor would protect him, started forward to deal with Silas once again.

* * *

One of the marines gave up. Dropping his weapon, he raised his hands into the air and stood.

Three others also stood when the one did, arms raised, unwilling to let one life be sacrificed.

"Is that all?" Asked Barabbus as he examined the group, "Come, show us how much this little life means to you."

Several Marines looked at one another and stood. A total of eight marines were standing now.

The colonel remained seated.

"Colonel," said one of the marines, "What do we do? We're low on ammo and we're out of grenades! They have the hostage!"

The Colonel turned to the marine close to him and said, "These are madmen. We can't let them win."

"But how will we be able to win?" The marine asked.

* * *

The wrench was a much better implement than Tamuur could have guessed. Silas hammered Tamuur again and again with the bludgeon, breaking components of Tamuur's armor and causing the construct to fail. Parts of the system came apart on him, and others just flat out refused to work. Tamuur was trapped in a metal shell after a minute of beating.

He and Silas stood opposite of each other on the catwalk between two engines. Doubtless the hyperspace module was fully charged now, and ready to go at a moment's notice.

Silas, with blood trickling out of the corner of his eye, stared at Tamuur wildly but didn't move.

"Why don't you just-" Tamuur coughed, blood coming out of his mouth, "Finish me? Isn't that what you wanted? Don't you want to kill me for taking away your so-called Goddess?"

Silas blinked and started to sway.

Tamuur waited, just breathing as he watched Silas.

"Goddess?" asked Silas.

Tamuur blinked. What was going on? "Kadesh," Replied Tamuur, then said with more certainty as he clearly saw confusion on Silas's face, "Miriam."

At that word Silas's eyes widened. And in that expression, that stance, Tamuur saw a different person in Silas now. Instead of a wide-eyed fanatic of a bizarre religion, Tamuur saw someone genuinely insane…yet…

"What have I done…." Silas said slowly, wide-eyed.

The thermal saw finished burning through the grate and fell through the floor. It slipped some, until it entered a fuel duct.

The entire deck below them exploded. A huge ball of fire erupted up from below.

Before Tamuur knew what was going on, he was flying through the air and landing beside the main engineering panel. Staring wide-eyed, he slowly got up as he saw most of engineering on fire. When he had raised himself to look, he saw on the ground Silas's form.

Flames were surrounding him now, making it impossible for Tamuur to easily cross and save him. Perhaps in his armor…

"No," Silas said, shaking his head with a mad smile and eyes wide, "No. Don't."

Tamuur hesitated. Earlier he had wished for death of Silas, even considered commanding it, but why now was he hesitating?

"You need help." Tamuur said.

"No," Silas replied and swallowed. He vomited, the putrid contents of his stomach falling through the grating and hissing beneath them in the fire. He stared up again and smiled despite the flames licking his lower body. "I need…release…."

Tamuur remained standing and simply watched.

"Heh…" Silas said, then paused on a word as he raised his head for the last time, "….Forgive me…."

Silas slumped, and never again rose his head.

Tamuur watched as the flames enveloped the greatest prophet Kadesh ever knew. He watched sadly as the man who had been his friend, his adversary, his enemy…burn in the fires of the great engine.

Slowly he turned around and left the engine room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

By now most of the marines, save three, were standing with arms laid down. Only the colonel and two his men were left.

Another prisoner had been brought forward- this time a young girl, perhaps age eight. A hand over her mouth, all she did was stream tears from her eyes as she waited.

"If you surrender, I do not need to do anything to these people." Barabbus said.

The colonel peeked out over the barracks and saw that little girl… a girl for all he knew could have been his daughter, in another life. He shook his head as he sighed and cried inwardly. The colonel set down his weapon and started to stand, remembering the marine's creed never to let harm fall on anyone, not even a life so young as that.

All the marines were standing now.

"Very good," Barabbus said, nodding, "Very good." He turned his head and nodded.

All the marines were in perfect position to be mowed down by the Cultists. They stood and took it, standing even as they could have ducked. Some ducked, but were too late, and it mattered not. Mines found in the gun cabinet were thrown into the barricade and detonated, incinerating the marines there and killing others with shrapnel.

Barabbus watched expressionless, then motioned for the hostages to be released. Both girls collapsed and sobbed on the deck, but didn't move from their spots as the guns of their captors were still on them. Their savors had failed.

Barabbus smiled, then turned to one of his cardinals and said, "They must have gotten here somehow. Take a handful of men and go to the launch bay. Find their craft and use it to return to the false moon. Claim it in the name of the goddess."

"At once." Nodded the cardinal. After some words, twenty armed fanatics hurried to the cargo bay to claim their prize.

* * *

After nearly twenty minutes of slowly walking through the halls of the ship, he arrived at the hanger doors to see them closed.

A sudden, evil thought crossed his mind and he exclaimed, "NO!"

He pounded on the door, then hurried to the small station where one could look out into the hanger. There he saw the corvette moving up and turning around- the bodies of two marines dead on the floor where the ship had landed. They, along with the corvette, were sucked into space when the ship left the hanger.

Tamuur knelt to try his radio, but found the system destroyed by one of Silas' blows. Knowing that the radio in the ship was also dead, all Tamuur could do was sink to his knees in despair at the fact that the fanatics were headed home… to destroy all that was beautiful on the Angel Moon.

* * *

"They've returned! They're back! Hey guys, what-" Was as far as the female deckhand went before being mowed down by the Protectors of Kadesh.

The first ten killed any that they saw and started going through the ship killing the crew. Armed resistance manifested, but it was late in coming. The bridge, engineering, and several other sections were closed off and sealed per the general quarters alarm. Even then, it was only a matter of time before someone managed to get them open.

Miriam was holding Tobit close, the baby screaming incessantly at the noise and the violence erupting around them.

She quieted her baby, knowing that all was lost. When they came, they would either kill her or worse… she would be married to Silas and serve as the revered goddess of this place. A life she didn't want. They would probably take away her son too, if they felt he wasn't 'clean' enough. She kissed the head of her baby.

The door suddenly opened and standing there was a cultist. He had his gun leveled, but Miriam raised her head suddenly to stare at the man.

He paused, eyes widened. Slowly he lowered his weapon.

"Go away." She said.

"I…." He hesitated, then swallowed, "I cannot."

"LEAVE!" She said, "I am not some goddess to be worshiped! If you can't leave me then kill me!"

The man stumbled, then looked down the hallway. Wild screams and words were heard. He looked back in on the proceedings, then swung his gun aside and reached a hand forward.

Miriam stared at it.

"My name is Longinus, and I have a newborn daughter at home who is about the same age as your son. Come with me, I will bring you to safety."

Miriam blinked at the man, then stood and took his hand. The soldier lead her through the ship, past the wild shouts and cries, and to the waiting corvette. Miriam looked into the corvette and saw that the soldier inside, guarding the pilot, recognized her face. "Kad-"

"This woman must be returned to the ship immediately," Longinus said, "For the glory of Kadesh."

"The glory of Kadesh!" Replied the soldier. Longinus put a hand on Miriam's back as she held her baby and entered the ship. She closed her eyes as the doors closed, and the corvette took off under the command of the solitary marine.

Miram closed her eyes and hugged her baby. She knew of the nightmares that could happen aboard the Araraht-Nahb, and only hoped somehow that her status as a mythical being incarnate could protect her and her son.

* * *

Tamuur had watched the shuttle go. Depressed, he got up again and started for his room, to sit there and wait for the inevitable. He unlocked the door with the number her and Miriam had decided upon, then entered the room.

He left the door open and grunted as he landed on the bed. He clasped his midsection in sharp pain. He had broken some ribs at least, and knew from the blood dripping out of his mouth that somewhere along the line Silas had imparted him a blow which was mortal.

Tamuur was dying.

He looked up and saw the video recorder unit set into the wall. It was the same one he had been using to record messages to his son in the future… messages which may now never be read by human eyes. It was a useless gesture perhaps, but one that made him pleased.

Reaching up now, he decided to record one last message. He activated the unit and saw the recording light come on.

Tamuur leaned back in the seat, took a breath, and started to say, "My son.

"I have watched you being born… and soon… I suppose you will watch me die. I don't know why I am leaving this recording…perhaps in some futile gesture to have someone listen to my parting words… but I feel perhaps this is fitting that I impart some wisdom for you to hear before I finally meet my end.

I've lived a long and full life, and have no regrets. I would not do anything differently if I were offered the chance. I've lived with a beautiful woman, your mother, and I have seen you being born to her and I… and knew that at least for a time we were a family… perhaps the most wonderful thing I've ever built in my entire life.

I don't know what times you and your own will see when I have finally passed on. I don't know if Silas and his followers will win out in the end, or by some miracle the madness will be cured and sense restored to the people of these ships. Regardless…." Tamuur coughed, "I want you to pass on the knowledge of these tapes… Even if Silas and his mad religion pursue, know that it was that religion which caused my death and the death of our people.

Someday, if at all possible, I want our people to truly appreciate the gifts I made for them to inherit. They seem impossible now, but if ever you come to see this, my son, please give them the gift I cannot and return us to our home world. Get us out of this place and into the free universe where we belong."

Tamuur coughed again and leaned over on the bed. The camera tracked him as he fell. Coughing, blood ejected from his lungs.

"Remember us…" He said, tears in his eyes, "Remember….."

A face came before his own. As his vision started to blur and the world come to a close, the face of his wife drifted before him. He could feel her hands on his own, squeezing them tight. Her voice whispering to him that her heart belonged to him and him alone.

"Miriam…"

My Goddess…


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Longitus had gone with Miriam to the bridge, protecting her as she had to live. She went to the place, and after she came out she cried a long while. She closed the room, not wishing to look upon her beloved so recently departed.

Longitus consoled her as best as he could, and then offered Miriam a gift. It was a small thing, but she accepted it. Months afterwards she returned with Longitus' gift and Tamuur was given a proper rest. She sealed the room then, protecting it from the curious. It was forever afterwards known as the 'hidden room', as the secrets within could never be fathomed.

The body of the prophet Silas was discovered in the engine room. Proclaiming that he had fallen in battle with the Enemy of the goddess, Barabbus had him entombed in the cathedral of his own making on deck 1. It was declared sacred ground to the people of Kadesh, and all were forbidden to go there.

The crew of the Angel moon either surrendered or were killed. Many were put to death for their heresy, but some repented and were accepted into the congregation of the goddess. Barabbus, now the first disciple of Kadesh, declared himself the Pope and new speaker of the Goddess herself.

And as the years went on, the children of Kadesh used the gifts Tamuur gave to Miriam as a malevolent means. Barabbus took the designs and used them to gain more wealth on other ships- plundering them for their wealth. As their numbers started to dwindle, his final years saw the enactment of allowing the unclean to be cleansed in the holy light and become part of the greater congregation of Kadesh. Those that refused to join were punished and their remains plundered. With this loot they constructed the greatest of Tamuur's ancient designs- the mothership. Equipped with mighty systems the builders did not understand, the devices allowed them to draw prey from far away- bringing them into the embrace of Kadesh to offer them salvation or death.

Miriam was forgotten by the congregation, made possible by Barabbus' declaration that Kadesh had no image- only the nebula comprised her beauty, for she was everywhere and in everyone. Nobody seemed to complain about the doctrine in the early days, and no scholars arose to dispute his position.

Miriam showed the tapes to her son, Tobit, who grew up wise and knowledgeable. A pilot himself, he passed on the teachings of his father to his own son, as well as the knowledge to hide oneself from the eye of the church of Kadesh. In this way, the memory of Tamuur was passed on.

Despite the word of Kadesh propagating across the people of the nebula, a prophecy was made. Those who embarked on the journey from their ancient homeworld were bound to make the journey together and never be separated. As the children of Kadesh left the others to make their own destiny the balance had changed.

One day, the children of tears would return to reclaim them and make again the exiles from heaven whole, weather or not the Goddess had anything to say about it.

The church turned deaf ears to this prophecy. It would never come true, for the Goddess was their protector now.

But they also said that no man could ever cripple a god.


End file.
